


Coffee Beans and Broken Pens

by GuestPlease



Series: Follow the Spokes of the Wheel [3]
Category: Disenchantment (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Bean is an English student, Dreamsharing, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff and Humor, Guess who's back :), Guess who's still a Blushy Boi AND a devoted husband, Guess whose mother finally isn't dead, Guess whose mother is still :/, History Jokes, Human Elfo, Human Luci, Luci has no idea what to do, Luci remembers being a demon and Luci remembers the last cycle, Magic Revealed, Miri has two jobs and neither is looking after her stupid best friend but she'll do that too, Pen is a history student, Texting, all of my OCs that's who, what is 'a laptop'?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:54:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 51,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22339618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuestPlease/pseuds/GuestPlease
Summary: Pendergast (Pen) Griffiths meets a cute girl at a coffee shop, and everything changes. Suddenly, she's everywhere-- Dungeons and Dragons, university class, even in his dreams. Dreams where he's someone else... not entirely, but damn near close. Someone from a time long before Pen's.Bean meets a cute guy. He's a lot better than Merkimer (ew), and he's notthatbad. He even rescues her, once or twice. Too bad he works for her Dad, and gets flustered when they do anything technically considereduntowardby anyone before the Victorian age. Except she also has the dreams...
Relationships: Bean | Tiabeanie & Elfo & Luci (Disenchantment), Bean | Tiabeanie/Pendergast (Disenchantment), Pendergast & Bean|Tiabeanie & Miri|Mop Girl, Pendergast (Disenchantment) & Zog (Disenchantment), minor Odval/Sorcerio
Series: Follow the Spokes of the Wheel [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1551175
Comments: 96
Kudos: 20





	1. Meet Cute

Pen Griffiths sat near to the barista at _The Jittery,_ mostly because it was so crowded. Ordinarily, he preferred sitting near the back, but at least that day he’d be able to hear her mis-saying his name.  
Miri always denied it, but she always grinned when saying it, so he was onto her.

“Ben?” Miri called.  
Pen rose, and went to reach for his drink… but someone was already there.  
She had snow white hair, and freckles splattered across her face, buck-teeth, and the bluest eyes he’d ever seen.  
“Hi.” He said.  
“Hi.” She said back.

“Hi.” Miri interrupted. “That’s… that’s his.”  
Whoever it was that had almost picked up his drink, she blushed. “Oh, sorry.” She stuck her hand out to Pen. “I’m Bean. They always get my name wrong.”  
“Pen. Same.” He didn’t want to let go.

“This is _deeply_ fascinating, but your drinks are ready.” Miri said.  
“Do you want to sit with me?” Pen blurted out.  
Bean and Miri both looked at him.  
“Since… it’s so crowded.” Pen continued, blushing.

Bean’s face lit up. “I’d love to.”  
Miri handed them their drinks, and he noticed that there was something extra written on Bean’s.  
“So, what brings you to Dreamland?” He asked awkwardly.  
She grimaced. “Family. My parents live here.” Then she brightened. “But I’m going to uni this year, and I’ve got a flat with two friends!”

“What’re you studying?” He asked.  
“Language and Literature—I want to specialize in fairy tales.” She admitted. “So, what brings _you_ to Dreamland?”  
“We moved here when I was a kid. I’m… my boss told me that I should probably get a uni degree as well if I wanted to do anything other than get him coffee. …I’m in history though.”

She lit up. “First year?”  
“Mm… a little old for it, but—”  
“I’m a first year!” She said excitedly. “I haven’t met anyone else who is yet!”  
“Have you tried Freshers week?” Pen asked.  
Her smile faded a bit, and she changed the subject. “You said you’re a bit old for it, how old are you?”  
“Twenty-two.” He admitted.

She stuck out her tongue. “You’re only three years older than me. That’s not old.”  
He smiled as he sipped his apple tea. “Mm… maybe so.”  
She smiled back, and went to sip her own drink. “…I think the barista gave me her number.”  
Pen blinked owlishly. “She… what?”

“See?” Bean replied, holding up her drink. There was indeed a number written on it.  
“She’s in a relationship though.” Pendergast said quickly.

He glanced at Miri, who grinned at him.  
“Shame, she’s cute.” Bean sighed.  
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize…”  
“I’m bi.” She winked at him. “I’m not going to hide it.”

Pen relaxed slightly. “So I still have a chance?”  
She laughed. “Yeah, I think you do.”  
He smiled at her. “Can I see the number?”  
“Why, you want the barista’s number too?” She showed him the cup.

He squinted at it. It was… familiar. Too familiar. He pulled out his phone to compare, and then showed Bean the contact with that number saved. It was his own number.  
“Oh.” Bean said, blushing. “Well, that’s very forward for someone who gets your name wrong on your drinks.”  
“And here I thought you were going to comment on the fact that I have my own number saved as a contact.” Pen teased.

Bean shrugged. “I mean, it actually proved to me that it was you, and not just a nosy barista trying to set me up with a random person.”  
“Hey, I’m not nosy.” Miri said. “I just have never seen Pen interact with a woman besides me or Emily.”  
Pen twisted in his chair. “Are you _texting_ right now?” He asked.  
“No.” Said Miri, visibly tapping something into her phone.

Pen glared at her when he felt his phone go off in his pocket. She’d texted the group chat.  
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He muttered to Bean, pushing his glasses up his nose. He was also blushing furiously.  
“No, it’s cute.” Bean laughed. “I’m glad you’ve actually got friends who are girls, it makes you more trustworthy.”  
“Oh, he’s really trustworthy! He’ll treat you right!” Miri called.

“Thank you, Miri!” Pen snapped through gritted teeth.  
“You’re damn right ‘thank you Miri’—hi, what can I get you?” Thankfully, she was interrupted by an incoming customer.  
“I swear I’m normal.” Pen sighed.  
Bean grinned at him. “Nah, you’re not. _But_ I didn’t know you were interesting, and that’s even better than normal.”

“Really?” Pen raised an eyebrow.  
“Mm-hmm. I mean, I kind of guessed, but now I’m pretty sure.” She grinned triumphantly at him.  
“If it helps, I had a band once.”  
“Ooh, no, going backwards.”  
“And I have a motorcycle.”  
“Mm, better, but I’ve had sex with too many guys with motorcycles who were assholes. You don’t seem like an asshole.”

“I like to think I’m not.” Pendergast said.  
Her smile was like the sun. “Yeah, I don’t think you are either. What’s Pen short for, by the way?”  
“It… Pendergast. It’s my mother’s maiden name, and there was this knight from Dreamland in the 1200s with the same name, like that makes it better… I’m going to write my dissertation on him.” He said. “…what’s Bean short for?”  
She made a face. “Tiabeanie.”

“Like the princess?”  
“Well… yes and no. _Technically_ , I’m named after Tiabeanie the first. My dad’s into history too, and we’re kinda related to the old kings of Dreamland. Y’know, before they got absorbed into England like everyone else? So Tiabeanie the first was from Dreamland before she became queen of Maru.”  
“Oh, my boss loves talking about that. He has a replica of the surviving Dreamland portrait of her in his office—I think they sell them at the castle.”

Bean groaned. “Yeah, my dad has one too. She looks _so_ pissed off. Why anyone would want to see someone from the 1200s glaring down at them, I have no idea.”  
“Well, given Maruvian portraits of her, she probably didn’t like—”  
“Pen, if you keep going, you’re going to sound like my dad and that’s a _major_ turn off.”

He flushed. “Sorry.”  
She shrugged. “I mean, I say turn off but like… it’s not like we were going to go behind the Jittery and fuck in the alleyway.”  
Pen choked on his tea.  
“ _Get it, Pen_!” Miri hissed encouragingly.

“Miri, stay out of this!” He growled.  
Bean laughed. “Sorry, you’re just so cute when you’re flustered. Here.”  
She tapped something into her phone, and a few minutes later, his phone buzzed.  
“Read it when I’m gone, okay?” She took another sip of her hot chocolate, then licked whipped cream off of her upper lip.  
Pen looked like he was about to have a heart attack.

Thankfully, Miri once again interfered. “If you guys fuck in here, I’m going to have to call the manager. Also, Pen, don’t you have to get back to work?”  
“Right, yes, work.” He was still staring at Bean. “Work! Sorry, I’ll see you later?”  
“Text me.” She made a phone call motion with her hand as he ran out of the coffee shop. A few seconds later, she heard the roar of a motorcycle, and grinned.

“ _Interesting_.” She muttered.  
Miri began unsubtly bussing tables near her. “So, you like him, right?”  
Bean stared off into the distance. “It feels like… I know him somehow.”  
“I felt the same way when I met my Emily.” Miri said, before giving up the pretense and just sliding into Pen’s empty chair. “Like… in another life, you spent _years_ with them?”  
“Yeah, that’s it exactly.” Bean said. “It’s _weird_ , right?”

“At first.” Miri shrugged. “At first, a lot of things are weird though. Like the fact that Pen, King of the Nerds, has a motorcycle. And a leather jacket. Then you find out that it’s passed down from his dad, King of the Assholes, and you’re like, ‘ _oh_ , it’s not something he himself did’.”  
“King of the Nerds?” Bean asked, cocking her head.

“Oh yeah.” Miri said. “They follow him around given any opportunity. You should probably stake your claim—Edgar’s half in love with him if he’d look at his feelings for any significant amount of time, and Mortimer does a lot of _staring_ at him.”  
“Merkimer?” Bean frowned distastefully.  
“No, Mortimer. Mortimer the Expendable in the group chat.” Miri replied.  
“He’s straight though, right?” Bean asked. “Pen, I mean?”  
Miri shrugged, and got up to get back to work. “Never really asked. Never really saw him react to anyone the way that he just reacted to you either, though.”

Pen arrived at work a few minutes later, and burst in, barely having enough time to take off his helmet.  
“Sorry I’m late.” He said.  
Zog looked up. “Pen, you’re right on time.”  
“And that’s late.”  
“Jesus, kid, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I… there was a girl. At the coffee shop.”  
“So they’re finally lettin’ women outta doors?” Zog raised an eyebrow. “Jesus, what has the world come to?”  
Pen flushed. “Fair enough. I just… she’s something else. Sir.”  
“Beware of the ‘somethin’ else’ girls, kid. Dagmar was somethin’ else. She took my daughta five years ago, and every cent I had _fifteen_ years ago.”

‘How is your daughter? You haven’t mentioned her in a while.” Pen started making coffee for Zog.  
Zog was silent for a minute. “She’s outta rehab. Goin’ to the university—and did I have to pull strings for that! I don’t know. We’ll see if it sticks. Never did for Dagmar.”  
Pen shrugged. He’d never met Zog’s daughter—Zog himself mostly referred to her as ‘my daughta’, like she didn’t have a name. “You never know.” Pen said diplomatically, placing the coffee cup in front of Zog.

“Thanks, Gast. It’s gonna be a long night tonight, I got that book to write, and admin stuff…” Zog waved his hand dismissively. “Never become a dean of a university, kid.”  
“I don’t want to.” Pen said honestly.  
Zog shot him a look, but then nodded. “Smart kid. Smarter than me. Here’s some advice—if they don’t want ya when you’re at your worst, don’t take ‘em at your best.”  
“Yes sir.” Pen said, refraining from pointing out that Zog had said that to him before. “So what do you need me to do?”

The admin stuff had been sorted the day before—by Pen—for Zog’s perusal, and Pen’s job description had _technically_ changed so he was a part-time personal assistant. Neither Pen nor Zog really liked the concept of _part-time_ , but that was beside the point. Soon, Pen would have to be studying a lot more. But not yet, for now he was still working _full-time_.

Pen nodded.  
“Send emails for me, would ya? I gotta write the book… oh, can you get the ball rollin’ on the history department’s involvement in that castle thing?”  
“The exhibition on Tiabeanie the first?” Pen asked, glancing up at the painting. As always, Tiabeanie glared down at him. He squinted up at her. It must be his imagination, but she looked just like Bean.  
“Yeah, that thing. Tell ‘em whatever they need to hear, it’s supposed to go well.” Zog said dismissively. Pen nodded again, then pulled his laptop out of his bag and began working.


	2. The Griffiths Family

It was fairly late when Pen finally got home. His mother was sitting at the kitchen table, frowning at paper. His sister was also sitting there, a biology textbook out.   
“Hey, Mum.” Pen said, taking off his coat. “Hi, Birdy. What are you two doing?”    
His sister, Blodeuwedd, glared at him. “Three guesses what I’m doing, Penny. Mum’s doing the accounts for the end of the month.” 

“Did you ask Thomas for help?” Pen asked, moving around them to put the kettle on. He took two mugs out, and two teabags—both apple cinnamon tea.    
“Thomas is out again.” His mother, Lynette, sighed. “Drinking, probably.”   
“Well, you know, third time’s the charm.” Blodeuwedd pointed to herself. 

“ _Nice_ , Birdy.” Pen commented, pouring the tea into the mugs. He handed his mother one, then slid the other towards Blodeuwedd. She caught it easily.    
“What’s wrong with me, anyway?” Pen asked, sitting down at the table.    
“Nothing’s wrong with you, _bachgen_.” Lynette cooed. 

“Yeah, nothing except your eyesight.” Blodeuwedd smirked. “And the fact that you’re going to die alone.”    
“When you dyed your hair last year, I wished I was completely blind.” Pen replied.    
Blodeuwedd hit his shoulder. “Dick. When they find your body, there’ll only be your skeleton left after you get eaten by all your cats.”    
“ _Blodeuwedd_ , don’t speak to your brother like that.” Lynette huffed. 

“I met a woman today.” Pen said. “A… beautiful woman.”   
Blodeuwedd nearly spat out her tea. “That is the most ominous thing you’ve ever said.”    
“What’s she like, _machgen_?” Lynette said absently, going back to her work. 

“She’s got snow white hair. Naturally, I think…”    
“So, you fell asleep at work and dreamed that Daenerys Targaryen came to Dreamland on the back of her dragon, and you two flew away together, and you were all, ‘I’d never stab you in the back my queen, even if you turn evil’. Right?” Blodeuwedd grinned at her older brother.    
“I met a real, _human_ , people woman.” Pendergast replied. 

“…what a weird way to say that.” Lynette muttered to herself.    
Pen looked at her despairingly. “ _Mum_.”    
“She has a point, Pen.” Blodeuwedd agreed. “Besides, the ‘real human’ thing, I’ll believe. We all know your true love is a robot just like you, but I’ll believe it. What I cannot believe is that you hired a prostitute.”    
“Pendergast Llewellyn Griffiths!” Lynette said in shock. “I hope you at least remembered to use a condom!”

“I did not hire a prostitute! I met her at a coffee shop!” Pen hissed at his sister, hiding his face behind his hands.    
“It _sounds_ like you hired a prostitute.” Blodeuwedd shrugged. “Don’t worry, you probably won’t die alone then—it sounds like you can get companionship at a bulk discount. Paying her to spend her life with you, and all that.”    
“She’s not a prostitute, Birdy.” Pen groaned. 

“…so is she an old woman that you helped cross the street, and then she said, ‘oh thank you, what a nice young man’ and you immediately got down on one knee?” Blodeuwedd asked.    
“ _No_ , Birdy.” Pen ground out.    
Sensing her brother was near his limit, Blodeuwedd backed off. “So when do we get to meet her?”    
“Never, until I can trust you not to call her a robot or a prostitute or anything else.”    
“Aw, c’mon Penny! I’ll be good!” Blodeuwedd said. “I’ll be a perfect angel! Everyone knows I’m the best behaved child anyway.” 

Pen ruffled her strawberry blonde hair. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”    
“Agh, no, it took me forever to get it down!” Blodeuwedd groaned. “Mum!”    
“Pendergast, be nice to your sister.” Lynette said.    
Pen made a face at Blodeuwedd, and she made a face back. 

Thankfully, they were both saved from further interaction as their eldest sibling, Thomas, returned.    
“Oh rise, and wake, oh fairest lady of Spring, come and be wed to the Forest King!” Thomas sang off-key.    
“Are you _drunk_?” Blodeuwedd said, glancing between Thomas and Lynette.    
Pendergast crossed his arms. “He definitely smells like a distillery.” 

“It was just a few drunks.” Thomas said.    
“I think you mean drinks.” Pendergast corrected. 

“Whatever. You act like that but you’re not—you’re… I’m the eldest!” Thomas finally settled on.    
“You don’t act it.” Blodeuwedd muttered. She gathered her book and left the room.    
This was something that was generally said under better circumstances. Lynette often joked that Pen and Thomas’ souls had gotten switched in the order by accident before they were born.    
“You are—so you should be setting a better example.” Pendergast hissed. 

Thomas glared at him. “For who? You’re an old man at 22, and Birdy’s not like you and me. She doesn’t even remember _him_. It’s my money, and I’m never going to… I’m not _him_!”    
“You are headed down a _very_ dangerous path, Thomas.” Pendergast hissed.    
This was when Blodeuwedd returned with a bucket of water, dumped it on Thomas’ head, and ran. 

“Children, _stop_!” Lynette screamed, obviously near tears.    
No one listened. Pendergast, always the white knight, immediately got between Thomas and Blodeuwedd. Blodeuwedd scrambled up the stairs while her brothers tussled. By the time Lynette managed to separate them, Pendergast’s glasses were hanging off his ear, his nose was definitely broken, and Thomas had a black eye. Both had several bruises, but ultimately it seemed Pendergast had come out on top. Of course, being more aware didn’t necessarily mean anything if you were already on the ground trying not to be strangled. 

“How could you?” Lynette asked, wiping at her eyes. “Both of you!”   
Pendergast looked at the floor as he fixed his glasses.   
“Mum…” Thomas said softly.    
“Out! Both of you! And you can’t come back in until you work this out!” Lynette was nearly trembling with rage. 

“It’s cold out.” Blodeuwedd said from the stairs.    
“Do you want to _join_ them?” Lynette growled.   
“No.” Blodeuwedd said quietly.    
Lynette pointed to the door, and Pendergast and Thomas both left. They sat on the doorstep, not too close to each other. 

“…I shouldn’t have lunged for her.” Thomas said, taking a cigarette and lighter out of his coat and flicking it to remove some of the water.    
“Mm…” Pendergast winced as he cracked his nose back into position. “I shouldn’t have said you’re like _him_. Or implied it. Whatever.” 

“No, it’s… I was brushing my teeth the other day, and I thought he was right behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin—over my own reflection.” Thomas shook his head slowly as he lit the cigarette.    
“You didn’t tell me that.”    
“Yeah, well I’m telling you now.” Thomas huffed, taking a drag of his cigarette. “Your nose isn’t quite fixed yet, by the way.” 

“No, it’s been like that for years. It’s as fixed as it’s going to get.”    
“ _How_ did you not end up the leader of a biker gang?” Thomas asked.    
“You’re the one with the denim jacket.” Pendergast pointed out. 

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “It’s for my pins, dumbass.”    
The light above them turned off, and the only things illuminating the brothers were the streetlights and Thomas’ cigarette.    
“Look, I know it’s been… you’ve been drinking a lot more lately. And I didn’t want to say anything, because usually when I point shit out, you push me down a well.”    
“Jesus, that was _one time_.” 

“But not in front of Mum, or Birdy.” Pendergast finished.    
Thomas blew out a cloud of smoke. “Yeah, yeah… yeah. Look, I’ve spent years comparing myself to perfect Pendergast, can we not do this right now? Get off your high horse. I know I fucked up.”    
Pen leaned back. “Then what do you want me to say?” 

“Well, right now, I want you to shut up and let me smoke in peace.”    
“Well, I want to be able to go back in soon.”    
“Pen, just _shut up_. For one minute.”    
That was when the door opened and Blodeuwedd quietly handed them both mugs of steaming ginger tea, before disappearing back into the house. 

Pendergast cradled his mug of tea, trying not to let the steam too close to his healing nose. “So I met the woman I’m going to marry today.”    
Thomas choked on his tea. “You can’t just _say_ things like that.”    
“Well, I just… it felt _right_ meeting her.” 

“So when do the rest of us get to meet your Russian mail order bride?”    
“She’s not a mail order bride.”    
“Well, I can’t imagine another situation where a woman agrees to marry you within the same day of meeting you.” Thomas replied.    
Pendergast huffed, then immediately winced. “She’s not like that.” 

Thomas sipped his tea, watching Pendergast. “…you know, if she goes missing later, I’m going to tell the police about this conversation.”    
“Fair.”    
“And you can’t just _decide_ to marry women, this isn’t one of your history papers.” 

“I meant down the line, asshole.” Pendergast huffed.    
Thomas raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m still telling the police. Mum’ll be like, ‘oh, he was always such a good boy, I can’t believe he did a murder-suicide when he got rejected-‘”    
“ _Tommy_.”    
“And the reporter will turn to me and I’ll just shake my head and say, ‘I knew there were problems when I realized that he was not just a straight man and a nice guy, but a Straight Man and a Nice Guy’.”    
“ _Thomas_.” It hurt to laugh. 

Thomas grinned at him. “In all seriousness, I know you’re not the type to take things too quickly, so this is… a shock. Especially since you’re apparently pulling a Gaston and you just _found_ a woman—‘she’s the one, the lucky girl I’m going to marry’.”   
“I see your point. I don’t know, I just… do you believe in love at first sight? I didn’t, and then I met her, and everything seemed to slot together. I-I feel like I _know_ her.” 

“And what happens if she doesn’t feel like she knows you?” Thomas asked.    
Pendergast sipped his tea. “I’d respect that. I’d be disappointed, but I just want her to be happy.”    
“Thank God, I had visions of tabloid headlines; ‘Man Disguises Self as Groom at Wedding, Kidnaps Bride’.” Thomas gestured with his cigarette, leaving a trail of smoke.    
“Nah, I probably will just end up dying alone, eaten by my cats, like Birdy said.” Pendergast replied, pausing to sip his tea. 

“Oof, she said that to your _face_?” Thomas grimaced. “Wow.”    
“Mm…” Pendergast agreed, before his phone buzzed. Curious, he pulled it out of his pocket. 

_(Unknown Number) 8:42pm_   
_R u_ _ghosting me?_

He opened up his messages, and realized who’d sent it. Previous messages from the sender were;    
_(Unknown Number) 2:13pm_   
_Hey hot coffee shop guy, it’s Bean. Text me back?_   
“Why are you smiling? It’s really creepy with the broken nose.”    
“She _texted_ me.” Pendergast said.    
“…weird.” Thomas finally said. “Can we head in now?” 

Pendergast nodded, and they both entered.    
“Did you patch things up?” Lynette asked.    
“Yep.” Pendergast placed his mug in the sink.    
Lynette beamed at both of them. “I’m so glad. Thomas, can you help me with the accounts for this month? You’re the only one with any head for numbers.”    
“Sure, Mum.” Thomas said as Pendergast sat down at the kitchen table, entering in the contact name ‘Princess’ as he saved Bean’s number. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Sorry about that, my computer was messed up. 
> 
> Blodeuwedd (Bloh-DIE-weth) is nicknamed Birdy because the character that she was named after in Welsh mythology was turned into an owl for infidelity crimes. I also considered having 'Birdy' be Pen's nickname for her, and 'Flowerface' be Thomas', since that is what her name means and the original Blodeuwedd was... literally made out of flowers. The song Thomas is also singing is actually about the same person-- it's 'Oak, Broom and Meadowsweet' by Damh the Bard. 
> 
> So, this was alluded to in the other stories (mostly tVoN), but Thomas isn't straight. What I mean by that is that he's gay-- for a while I was going back and forth between him being gay or ace before I finally decided that while he's gay, Freddie the Sequel Baby is ace. (That's why he was an Ace card in the Devil's Card deck.)


	3. The Boys Are Here

“You know, usually people wait longer than a couple hours to ask that.” Luci leaned into Bean’s personal space, peering at her phone.   
She buried her face in a couch pillow. “He seemed so _nice_.”   
“Nice boys don’t like feeling pressured any more than bad boys.” Luci clucked.

“Elfo got inside my head.”   
Luci glared at Elfo. “Dude. C’mon.”   
“What? All I said was that if I were him, I’d have texted her back by now. Maybe he doesn’t like her that much.” Elfo, their third roommate, said, looking around hurriedly.

Luci crossed his arms. “ _Or_ , maybe he actually has something to do with himself rather than drool over Bean.”   
Bean threw her phone at Luci, who deftly caught it.   
“Oh, shit, he’s replying.” Luci said.

“What?!” Bean threw the couch cushion off—it unfortunately hit Elfo in the head. She scrambled to her feet, and snatched back her phone, just as it _ding_ ed.

_(Sir Pendergast) 8:45pm  
Sorry about that. Got home late from work, got distracted. _

She quickly texted back.   
_(My Phone) 8:46pm  
No prblm ddnt mean 2 disturb u. Just checking that I have the right #, haha _

Luci peered over her shoulder. “The haha makes you sound unbalanced.”   
“Why didn’t you tell me that _before_ I sent it?” She hissed, watching the text bubbles rise and fall.

_(Sir Pendergast) 8:47pm  
You didn’t disturb me.   
(Sir Pendergast) 8:47pm   
I was just fighting with my brother. _

“He’s a fast typer for a guy with only one eye.” Luci said.   
“What?” Bean asked.   
“Pendergast?” Luci tried. “You know, ginger-brown hair, brown eye, eyepatch, perpetual five o clock shadow, ripped?”   
Bean flushed. “He doesn’t have an eyepatch.”

Luci sat down on the couch. “ _Huh_.”   
“How do you know all the other stuff, though?” Bean demanded.   
“You want the truth?” Luci spread himself out.   
“ _Yes_ , obviously I want the truth!”

Luci rolled his neck to look at her. “I’m the reincarnation of a demon who eventually was given guardianship over your children, and then your family line. Since you and good old Pendergast have been reincarnated, I’m here to keep an eye on you. Presumably, to chaperone you guys or something, I don’t know. What I do know is, I went to sleep seven hundred years ago a demon, and I woke up here, a human man, and you’re back—and so is he. And other people, I’m guessing it’s a cycle. You and Pendergast are going to get married, have four kids, and spend years together as happy as married people can reasonably be.”

Bean stared at him. “Jesus Christ, I knew you weren’t going to tell the truth, but… _damn_ , Luci, that’s the weirdest lie I’ve ever heard.”   
“Mm.” Luci leaned back in his seat. “That’s what I get for telling the truth.”   
“I’m going to do this in my room—who did we even used to be?” Bean demanded.

“Princess Tiabeanie of Dreamland and Sir Pendergast Griffiths.”   
“Now I _know_ you’re lying.” Bean scoffed, before disappearing into her room.   
“I believe you.” Elfo said.   
Luci looked at him. “You didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of fucking her back then either, buddy. …weird that she’s only meeting Pendergast now though.”

“Maybe it’s not true reincarnation.” Elfo suggested. “Maybe some things have been given another chance.”   
Luci rolled his eyes. “Maybe it’s because she wouldn’t be able to resist fucking the everloving shit out of a Pendergast used to the idea of women being able to vote instead of 1200s morals.”   
Bean opened her door. “His name’s _Pen_. You don’t call me Tiabeanie!” Then she shut the door again.

Luci closed his eyes. “Oh yes. Pen. Not Gast, not Penny, not _Pendergast_ , Pen.”   
“What’s the significance of that?” Elfo asked.   
“She gave him that nickname.” Luci replied. “Eight hundred years ago.”   
“You’re really sticking to this lie.” Elfo said. “…so did you tap her phone or something?”

Luci opened his eyes, and shot Elfo an annoyed look. “I need you to know that you died alone eight hundred years ago as well.” That _was_ a lie, but that didn’t matter.   
“That’s not very nice.” Elfo huffed, turning back to his laptop. “Who is this guy anyway?”   
“What, are you going to Google him?”

“Maybe!”   
“Pendergast—P-E-N-D-E-R-G-A-S-T Griffiths. With an S on the end.” Luci recommended, looking over Elfo’s shoulder.   
“How are you getting this stuff?” Luci muttered as Elfo clicked on a court case from fifteen years ago.   
“The university lets me access a lot of stuff.” Elfo said vaguely.

“I don’t think that’s him.” Luci said.   
Elfo pressed ctrl+f. “…The plaintiff claimed that he was a danger to her children. The judge asked for the specific names of the children—Thomas (10), Pendergast (7) and Blod—Blood... that one, (1). The defendant claimed that he had never raised a hand to Thomas, Pendergast or… the other one. The plaintiff claimed that under the defendant’s watch, Thomas had pushed Pendergast down a well… and as a result, Pendergast had hit his head, and now had irreparable damage to his right eye.” Elfo trailed off.

“Eyepatch.” Luci said, nodding.   
“Bean said he doesn’t have an eyepatch.” Elfo huffed, before clicking back out and going to Google images. Most of them were relatively innocuous, but there was one that drew Luci’s eye—and he hoped Elfo didn’t notice it.   
Of course Elfo noticed it, and clicked to enlarge it.

Zog was standing in front of a building that he was opening. The picture was mostly of him, but Pendergast was still clearly visible off to the side. He was wearing a brown suit, and looked kind of awkward, but it was still obviously him.   
“His eye looks okay for someone with ‘irreparable damage’.” Elfo muttered. “…do you think Bean knows he works for her Dad?”

“We don’t know that he does.” Luci said. “And she probably does know where he works, right?”   
“I’m telling her.” Elfo said.   
Luci immediately tackled him. “ _Nope_ , nope, if she needs to know, we’ll tell her later.”   
“She needs to know now!”   
Luci managed to wrestle away the laptop. “Nope—she doesn’t need to know that!”

“Luci, get back here with that!” Elfo wailed.   
Luci managed to lock himself in the bathroom.   
“Luci, I need that!” Elfo banged on the door.

On her bed, Bean looked up, annoyed. So far, the chat read:

_(Princess) 8:51pm  
Sry abt that, had to deal w/ rmmate _

_(Sir Pendergast) 8:51pm  
Rmmate? _

_(Princess) 8:52pm  
Roommate. Well, flatmate rlly. _

_(Princess) 8:53p,  
Older or ynger brther? _

_(Sir Pendergast) 8:54pm  
Older. I’m the middle child of three, I have a younger sister as well. You? _

_(Princess) 8:55pm  
I hve a lttle brother. Derek. He kinda sux. Not his fault. _

_(Sir Pendergast) 8:57pm  
As a middle child, I can genuinely say that Thomas is worse than Birdy. _

_(Princess) 8:57pm  
??? _

_(Sir Pendergast) 8:58pm  
Sorry, older brother = Thomas, younger sister = Birdy. Most English people have trouble with her name, it’s very Welsh._

_(Princess) 8:58pm  
U’re Wlsh? _

_(Princess) 8:58pm  
WAIT r u saying im worse thn Derek_

_(Sir Pendergast) 9:01pm  
Yeah, we moved here when I was about 7 after my parents got divorced. I told you we moved here when I was young._

_(Sir Pendergast) 9:02pm  
I haven’t met Derek. _

That was about when Bean stuck her head out of her room. “Luci, stop being mean to Elfo. I’m trying to text Pen.”   
“Bean, your boyfriend w—” Elfo was cut off by the bathroom door slamming into his face as Luci hurriedly opened it.   
“He’s not my boyfriend!” Bean hissed. “I just met him!”

“I’ll start planning your wedding.” Luci said. “I’m thinking your signature colours could be caramel and champagne.”   
Bean glared at him. “Just keep it down, assholes.”   
“But he’s--!” Elfo tried, gingerly rubbing his nose.

“I don’t want to hear it.” Bean snapped, locking the door to her room behind her.   
“You heard her.” Luci said. “She doesn’t want to hear it.”   
Elfo turned to glare at him. “Did you look at my files?”

“Uh, you mean the weird collages you made for your wedding to Bean? Of course I looked.” Luci handed Elfo back the laptop. “Green washes her out, idiot.”   
“…do you have any other ideas?” Elfo asked.   
“I have _loads_ of ideas—for her wedding to Pendergast.” Luci replied with a sharp grin.

“You’re a bad friend.” Elfo said.   
“To you. I’m a _great_ friend to Bean. I’m helping her get laid.”   
“She doesn’t need him.”   
Luci cackled. “What, to get laid? Oh, there’s so many mean things I could say to that—how to pick one?” 

Meanwhile, Bean was lying on her bed, texting back.

_(Sir Pendergast) 9:03pm  
Bean? I didn’t mean to offend you. _

_(Princess) 9:04pm  
LMAO no u didnt _

_(Princess) 9:05pm  
Elfo n Luci were @ it again srry _

_(Princess) 9:06pm  
Srry abt ur prents 2_

_(Sir Pendergast) 9:07pm  
Don’t be. It’s better this way. _

_(Princess) 9:08pm  
My prents r divrced 2. I get it_

_(Princess) 9:10pm  
They just got rlly bitter and shit twards each other. Still rlly bad. _

_(Princess) 9:11pm  
Lved w/ my dad 4 a long time. Resented him. Resented my mom. _

_(Princess) 9:12pm  
Went to live w/ my mom, realized just how bad itd b 4 both of them 2 b together. _

_(Sir Pendergast) 9:13pm  
I’m sorry you had to see that. _

_(Princess) 9:13pm  
Its fine _

_(Sir Pendergast) 9:15pm  
My family doesn’t really have that problem. We all agree we’re better off without my father. I haven’t seen him in 15 years, and I prefer it that way. _

_(Sir Pendergast) 9:16pm  
Could you tell me about your roommates? _

_(Princess) 9:17pm  
Nice save. _

_(Sir Pendergast) 9:17pm  
I try. _

_(Princess) 9:20pm  
So lucis an asshole, but fun. _

Bean typed in part of what Luci had said, but then deleted it. Pen didn’t need to know that.   
Across the city, Pendergast raised an eyebrow as he saw her text bubble rise then drop again. Lynette didn’t notice that, but Thomas did. Both of them noticed his small, gentle smile as he texted back and forth with her.


	4. Luci is not as helpful as he thinks

When Bean blearily stumbled out of her room and sat at the kitchen table, Luci slid a cup of coffee in front of her.   
“You must have stayed up all night with that guy.” Luci said.   
Bean yawned. “Nah, I just… I’m nervous about later. Couldn’t sleep.”   
They both looked at the calendar hanging on a nail on the back of the front door. That particular day was marked as, ‘Dinner with Dagmar’ in bright red marker.

“You could always have me call and pretend to be a doctor.” Luci said.   
Bean grimaced. “She’ll see through that. Where’s Elfo?”   
“He’s going to go sign up for societies.” Luci said, eying her. “I know you’ve got your _thing_ about it, but… it wouldn’t hurt you to go sign up for some too. You can leave before they break out the—”   
“ _Thanks_ , Luci.” Bean said though gritted teeth. “But it’s _fine_. I have you, and I have Elfo.”

“And you have Pendergast.” Luci said, crossing his arms.   
“And that’s better than it’s ever been.” Bean said firmly.   
Luci sighed. “You know, ever since I met you, you’ve carried your loneliness around with you like an old friend.”   
“That’s poetic, but I just met you last week.” Bean replied.

Luci poured himself a cup of coffee. “Sometimes, I wonder if I really am just a human who’s gone crazy.”   
“What else would you be?” Bean asked. “You’re not… you were joking yesterday.”   
Luci raised an eyebrow. “Sure, let’s go with that. But if I was joking, how come I can remember you dying?”   
“What?” Bean said softly.

Luci drummed his fingers against his mug. “To be fair, it was a long time coming. It wasn’t… you were old. Pendergast was already dead, and I think you kept looking over your shoulder for him to be by your side for the five years it took you to follow him.”   
“I don’t want to hear this.” Bean interrupted.   
Luci looked at her, then continued. “I think your heart just gave up after a while. I don’t know. Medicine wasn’t what it is today. Elfo’d been dead longer than Pendergast, and your children and grandchildren were all there. Well, Arthur was on his way, but… because we didn’t want to crowd you, it was just me and Addie there when you died.”

“I said I don’t want to hear this! This is—this is crazy!”   
“I don’t think Addie could believe it. Freddie had to hold her back from shaking you, and Emma… she just looked so sad, but I don’t think… it was partially because you _lingered_ , in a lot of pain, but Pendergast… he went fast. It was easier to believe that you were gone, ‘cause they’d been preparing for it for a while. Didn’t stop Addie from insisting you weren’t dead yet—which is weird, ‘cause I always thought Freddie was your favorite. I guess she was filled with regret for a lot of stuff left unsaid—you two always had a kind of tumultuous—” He was stopped by the sound of Bean slamming her coffee mug against the table.

“Who is—what the _fuck_ , Luci?” Bean demanded.   
“Your coffee’s leaking out.” Luci pointed out.   
“That doesn’t _fucking_ matter. What the fuck was that?” Bean hissed.   
Luci shrugged. “I’m just telling you the last thing I remember before I woke up in this flat.”   
“That’s _insane_.” Bean said. “And why tell me today of all days?!”

“Are you freaking out about Dagmar?”   
“No, I’m freaking out about you being insane!”   
Luci raised his mug in a toast to her. “You’re welcome. If you’re still worried, I can tell you about Pendergast’s death too.”

“ _No_ —I didn’t even want to hear the first one!” Bean snapped. “God, just when I was thinking you might be a good friend!”   
Luci looked mortally offended. “Excuse me? I’m a _great_ friend. I mean, not to Elfo, but I’m downright _nice_ to you. I made you coffee!”   
“You made yourself coffee and poured me a cup, didn’t you?” Bean asked, crossing her arms.   
“I… that is not the point.” Luci said. “You’re the closest thing I have to a best friend.”

“And you’re a _major_ asshole.”   
“I’m not the one who smashed a mug into the table.”   
“ _Asshole_.” Bean repeated.   
“You could have just said if you didn’t want coffee.”

She glared at him, and took her leaking mug to the sink. She tipped it out, and then threw the mug in the trash, and left.   
Luci took a paper towel and dropped it on the spilled coffee, but didn’t do anything else with it. Presumably, that was meant to be Elfo’s problem.

A few hours later, Bean stepped out of her room, wearing a blue dress.   
“How do I look?” She asked.   
“Oh, Bean, you look _amazing_.” Elfo sighed.  
Luci lowered the book he was reading. “Like a prostitute. You’re showing off your _knees_ , vile woman.”   
Bean raised her middle finger at him, and he laughed.

“My mother got me this dress, she can’t complain if I wear it to see her, right?” Bean asked.   
“Of course not, she’ll be so glad that you like it!” Elfo said.   
Luci raised an eyebrow. “That is, if she remembers getting it for you.”

Bean bit her lip. “Do you think I have enough time to put on makeup before she gets here?”   
“I think you’re beautiful the way you are.” Elfo said.   
Bean looked at Luci.   
“Oh, _now_ you want to know what I think?” Luci said, raising an eyebrow. “I think no matter what, Dagmar’s gonna get bitter about your appearance, so you might as well make it easier for _yourself_ and not try and erase the fact that you look a hell of a lot like her but twenty years younger.”

“…wait, did you guys just agree on something?” Bean asked, before there was a car beep outside.   
“Fuck.” Bean cursed. “She’s already here.”   
She stumbled out of the room as quickly as she could in high heels. No one noticed at the time that she’d forgotten her purse, including her phone.   
“She looked like an angel on a Christmas tree.” Elfo sighed.   
“She also broke a mug on the table earlier.” Luci pointed out. “Did you clean that up yet?”

“Of course I—hey, why didn’t you clean it up?” Elfo demanded.   
“’Cause I knew you’d do it.”   
“Maybe I won’t next time, ever think about that?” Elfo huffed.   
Luci grinned at him. “Yeah, you will.”   
“Yeah, I will.” Elfo sighed.

Bean, meanwhile, was sitting stiffly in Dagmar’s car next to her mother.   
“So, how’ve you been?” Dagmar cooed. “Having fun at Fresher’s Week?”   
“Um… kinda.” Bean said.   
“Make any new friends?”

“I met this great guy yesterday.”   
Dagmar’s smile turned brittle. “Oh, Bean, I wish I had your youthful naiveté. All men only want one thing.”   
“Is that why you’re going to make me sit near Merkimer again?” Bean muttered.   
“What was that?” Dagmar demanded.   
“Nothing. Just… looking forward to seeing Bunny and Merkimer again.” Bean lied.

Dagmar watched her for a minute.   
“Mom, the road!” Bean said quickly.   
Dagmar yanked the wheel just before crashing into someone’s house. “Bunny and I broke up.” Dagmar finally said.   
“Oh, Mom, I’m so sorry.” Bean said.

Dagmar sniffed. “You would have known if you had been home instead of off gallivanting with your father. Don’t let yourself be taken in by false smiles and pretty lies like I was, Bean.”   
“…so, love is a scam, got it.” Bean said.   
“Cross your knees, you look like a streetwalker.” Dagmar said instead of a useful reply.   
Bean crossed her knees, and directed her glare out of the car window.

Dagmar lived on top of the hill near the castle. Her house was big, and fancy, and there was no doubt in Bean’s mind that if Dagmar could have called herself a queen, she would have already.   
“Cloyd and Becky will also be dining with us tonight.” Dagmar said stiffly.   
Bean nodded, and followed her mother inside.

Cloyd and Becky—Dagmar’s younger siblings—were part of the same shadowy corporation that she was. They were just as stiff and lifeless, and they liked Bean even less than Dagmar did. They were also waiting in the foyer—the _foyer_ , because Dagmar was so rich she couldn’t just say hall—and they nodded at Bean, who nodded back.

“Well now, we’re all back together again.” Dagmar said, and Bean knew— _knew_ —she’d pasted one of those awful smiles on her face.   
“Jerry’s not here.” Bean pointed out.   
Dagmar laid a hand on Bean’s shoulder and _squeezed_. “Yes, Jerry’s not here, but he doesn’t matter anyway. Not like us. Not like _you_.”   
Cloyd and Becky offered Bean twin strange smiles, and Bean grimaced back.   
“Let’s go to the dining room.” Dagmar said it like a suggestion, but it was an order. Especially when she marched Bean forward, hand still digging into Bean’s shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know I got some of y'all on the Bunny/Dagmar train. Dagmar's still... kinda worrying here though, so Bunny deserves better.


	5. When Would Your Man

“So Tiabeanie, I hear you’re starting university this year.” Cloyd said conversationally as Dagmar’s servants placed plates in front of them all.   
“Which university?” Becky asked, sipping her wine. As she drank it, it stained her lips, as though she was drinking blood.  
Dagmar poured Bean a glass of that same red wine.

“Uh, Dreamland, since Dad works there.” Bean said, glancing at the cup. “Hey, I’m not… can I have water instead?”   
Dagmar raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me he actually _did_ it.”   
“Did what?” Cloyd asked.

Dagmar swirled her wine in her glass. “My idiot ex-husband sent Tiabeanie to rehab for _alcoholism_.”   
“Why would he do a thing like that?” Becky asked.   
“Because I was an alcoholic, Aunt Becky.”   
Dagmar waved her hand dismissively. “Zog always overreacts. So what if she had a few drinks from time to time? It’s not like she hurt anybody.” 

Bean bit her lip so hard she nearly drew blood. There had been an incident—not that she could remember. Derek described the aftermath to her later. She’d stolen a car—with someone in it—and both the car and the woman had ended up in the Dreamland river. She’d nearly died. She’d nearly killed someone.

Dagmar pushed the glass towards Bean. “Go on, have a sip.”   
“I’m not drinking anymore, Mom.” Bean said firmly, looking at Dagmar specifically instead of the wine.   
Dagmar sipped her own drink. “Tiabeanie, stop being a child. We’re having an adult drink with our adult dinner while you tell your aunt and uncle that no, you’re _not_ going into law, you’re going into English. Where’s the career in that?”

“You went through my mail.” Bean said flatly.   
Dagmar scoffed. “Of course I did. Obviously, you cannot be trusted to make good decisions for yourself.”   
Cloyd and Becky sipped their wine in unison.   
“What are you going to do about it?” Bean challenged.   
Dagmar raised an eyebrow. “I’m going to make you change it. You can’t join the company with an _English_ degree for God’s sake, even if you are my daughter.”

“Maybe I don’t want to join the company!” Bean snapped. “Maybe I don’t want to have your stupid ‘adult dinner’ with your stupid ‘adult drink’!”   
“Sit _down_ , Tiabeanie, you’re making a scene.” Dagmar snapped back.   
“Why don’t you have a drink? You’ll feel a bit better, your mother always—”   
“ _Fuck_ you, Uncle Cloyd!” Bean snarled.

Dagmar gripped her own glass so tightly that Bean thought she heard a _crack_. “Tiabeanie Mariabeanie de la Rochambeau Grunkwitz, _sit down this instant_. If you walk out of here now, I can promise you that I’ll not chase after you and give you a ride. You’ll be _walking_ home!”  
“Good, I don’t want to even _look_ at you right now!” Bean growled.

She stormed out of the house, then felt something drip down her cheek as her eyes stung. She wiped at them hurriedly on her arm. Even if they were tears of frustration, she still didn’t need them when she was walking home alone in the dark. She felt other, colder drops as well, all over her body. Scratch that. Walking home, alone, downhill, in the dark, while it was raining. _Perfect_.

To her credit, she got pretty far before the first heel snapped. She took it off and threw it in anger, then realized there was probably broken glass and shit on the streets, and she needed it. She put it back on, then hobbled a little further before the second heel broke. At least they matched now, she told herself as she ground her teeth so hard they nearly chipped.

She’d only made it as far as the Jittery. “Still gotta long way to go.” She muttered to herself as she collapsed on a nearby bench.   
That was when she heard footsteps approaching, and tensed.

Pendergast, for his part, had headed out reasonably early. To be fair, he was always early, but that was because he was necessary for this. He’d eaten dinner with his family, kissed his mother goodbye, grabbed an umbrella and his backpack, and left.

For once during Fresher’s week, the city was blissfully quiet. This may have been his first year at the university, but he had been well aware of loud students for years. He was alone, which was honestly how he liked it.

Then he saw someone sitting outside the closed community theatre across from the Jittery. He was prepared to walk by without making eye contact when he realized he knew her, and slowed.   
“Are you o—”   
“Fuck off before I rip off your face!” Bean snapped, wielding a broken shoe like a throwing knife.   
He stared at her.

“Sorry, Pen, didn’t realize it was you.” She said.   
“No problem.” He sat down next to her, holding the umbrella over both of them. “Are you okay? Uh… date go badly?”   
She blinked at him. “A date? Why would y… oh, the dress. No, dinner at my mom’s. She can be… awful.”

“Were you walking home?” He asked.   
She held up her broken shoes. “Trying to. Wasn’t really going well, if I’m being honest.”   
He laughed. “Yeah, it looks hard enough with just one. …do you have enough money for a taxi?”   
“I forgot my phone, and my purse.” She sighed. “My mom was supposed to drop me off at home…” She scooched closer to him. He told himself it was just the small size of the umbrella, that it didn’t mean anything.

“Do you have anywhere you’re supposed to be?” He asked.   
“No, Elfo and Luci thought I’d be back late, if at all.” She gripped the hem of her dress in frustration, and he flushed, suddenly finding the empty _Jittery_ across the street absolutely fascinating.   
“Well… I have somewhere I need to be. I’ll walk you home afterwards, if you want?”

She looked disappointed. “No, it’s okay. I don’t really want to hang around here.”   
“No, I meant… do you want to come with me?” He asked.   
She squinted at him. “Depends. Where are you going?”   
He sighed. “Don’t laugh?”

“No promises.”   
He shifted his backpack. “I’m going to go play Dungeons and Dragons.”   
She didn’t laugh, but she was obviously tempted. “I’ve never played.”   
“Well, if we get there early enough, I’ll help you make a character. Mortimer always has a spare sheet lying around.” Pendergast shrugged.   
She laughed then. “No offense Pen, but I’m not getting anywhere fast with these shoes, even before they broke.”

“I’ll carry you.” He said, then immediately flushed.   
“Wait, like a piggyback ride?” She asked, caught off-guard.   
“I was thinking more… bridal style. Because of the backpack.” He said quickly.   
“Really?” She grinned at him.

He grinned back. “Well, every princess dreams of the moment she gets rescued by a handsome knight. Your moment is now.”   
She laughed. “How long have you had to think of that one?”

“Oh, I’ve been saving that one for an NPC I have, so… two weeks?”   
“Ah, that makes sense with the princess and the knight thing.”   
He glanced at her. “…I’d be your knight in shining armor, if you wanted.”   
“Okay, I’ll hold the umbrella then.”

“Thank you, I’ve only got two hands. Here, take the umbrella and stand up.”   
“On the ground, or…?”   
“The bench works fine.”

She stood up, umbrella in one hand, shoes dangling from the other. He stood as well, looking up at her from the ground.   
“Well?” She asked.   
He swallowed, then moved so that he was to the side of her. He swept an arm under her legs, and she fell right into his arms, his other arm supporting her back. She, in turn, curled her arms around his neck.

“I could get used to this.” She said softly.   
“Too bad it’s only for tonight.”   
She stuck out her tongue at him. “Well, we just met yesterday.”   
“…it doesn’t feel like just yesterday.” He admitted.

She looked away. “Yeah… hey, do you believe in reincarnation?”   
He blinked at her. “What?”   
She made a face like she would have made a hand gesture, had her hands not been full. “It’s nothing, it’s just something my roommate was saying.”   
“Which one?”   
“Luci.”

“What was he saying?” Pendergast asked.   
Bean flushed. “He said something about us being soulmates from seven hundred years ago or something.”   
“Wow. That is… wow.” Pen replied.   
“I know, right?” Bean said, almost too quickly.

Pendergast looked at her, and she looked away.   
“Let’s get to know each other a little better first.” He said quietly. “…we’re here. Can you knock?”   
“Sure.” Bean shifted the umbrella to the hand with the shoes, and knocked on a wooden door.

There was no answer.   
She knocked again, louder this time.   
“I heard you the first time!” Someone called. The door slid open, and Miri the barista stared at them.   
“Can we come in?” Pendergast asked, shifting Bean in his arms.

“I… _what_?” Miri said.   
Bean waved.   
“Are you married?” Miri asked. “If so, _how_ , and _why_ are you here?”   
“We’re not married.” Bean replied. “My shoes are broken.”

“…of course.” Miri said. “Of course, that’s why he’s carrying you like that.” She slowly raised her phone, and very obviously took a picture.   
“Can we come in?” Pen repeated.   
Miri moved back inside, and Pen followed. The umbrella was hung on a nearby coat hanger, and he set her down as soon as they reached Miri’s flat—which happened to be the first on the right.

Just in time, because his phone immediately buzzed. When he checked it, Miri had posted the picture of them to the groupchat with the caption, ‘I’m too powerful. Send me your straight friends, I’ll find them girlfriends.’

“Miri!” Pen groaned, walking into the flat proper with Bean.   
Miri poked her head out of the kitchen. “What? It’s true.”   
There were two people already sitting at a wooden table with a plastic mat on it. They had similar dark hair and sharp features. Both were also openly gawking at Pen and Bean.

“…where are her shoes?” The girl asked first.   
“They broke.” Bean said again.   
“What happened to your face?” The boy asked, saying what everyone else was thinking.   
“Got in a fight with Thomas.” Pen replied.

Both the siblings sucked air through their teeth.   
“ _Why_ would you do that? He’s 6 foot 3 and built for rugby.” The boy said.   
“Mortimer, can you go get your backup character sheet?” Pendergast asked, slinging his backpack onto the couch and opening it. The reasoning behind the fight with Thomas was therefore labeled—to be ignored.   
Miri left the kitchen, and placed a mug in front of the girl, then kissed her gently. “Guess we’re not the only ones in a relationship anymore, Emily.”

“We’re not dating.” Pendergast finally said, pulling out several books. “I wanted to wait until the others got here to refute you, but I don’t think we have enough time.”   
Mortimer returned with a few pages of paper, and handed them to Bean.


	6. Back at it Again

By the time she was finished creating her character, Miri had supplied everyone with hot drinks—apple tea for Pen, coffee for Mortimer, and hot chocolate for Bean—without prompting, and there was another knock at the door of the apartment complex.

Miri sighed, and went to fetch whoever it was. A blond man barreled into the room as Bean was considering what to name her fighter. “Is it true?”   
“Nope.” Pendergast sipped his tea, then turned to Bean. “I’m sorry that they’re all going to gawk at you like you’re a circus exhibition.”   
“Circus exhibition? I was thinking more like masterwork of art.” The blond man flashed a grin. “Hi, I’m Edgar. They call me _the Fearless.”_  
“We call him that because he once tried to take on a dragon on his own, and the _Expendable_ was already taken.” Pendergast said. Bean laughed.

“I nearly won!” Edgar whined.   
“You mean you rolled really well, and Pen let the dragon be persuaded that you’d be hard to eat.” Emily huffed.   
“Why must you be so cruel to me when I love you so much?” Edgar asked.   
“Because I’m not interested, and you hit on _everybody_?” Emily shot back.

“He doesn’t hit on Miri.” Pen pointed out. “Maybe you want to tell Bean why?”   
Edgar paled, and Emily grinned. “He tried. She replied that she’d wait for him to get badly injured, and then she’d sneak into the hospital and make it an infection.”   
“I had a boss once that tried to rub soot in an open wound. I can make it happen.” Miri said, leaning against a kitchen counter.

“Aren’t you going to join us?” Bean asked.   
“Nah, DnD’s for nerds.” Miri replied. “I’ll watch though. Love you, babe.”   
“Love you too.” Emily called back.   
Mortimer put his phone down. “Turbish and Mertz aren’t coming.”   
Pen cracked his knuckles. “Well then, I guess we’re ready?”

Everyone nodded.   
“So, when we last left our party, you were all at the town square, trying to find out Llew the Paladin’s backstory. Suddenly, you notice someone new in town—a tiefling fighter, by the looks of her. Bean, what do you do?”   
“Uh… I guess I go over and say hi to… what are you, Emily?”

“Firbolg rogue.” Emily grinned.   
Bean looked at Pen, and he sighed. “She’s ten feet tall and bright pink, unable to lie, and she’s meant to be sneaky.”   
“Oh, yeah, I’m definitely introducing myself to her.” Bean grinned.   
“Okay. You approach the firbolg, who was looking at trinkets at a market stall. What do you say?”

“I stick out my hand and say, ‘hi, I’m Juanita Demonheimer’.”   
Pen glanced at her character sheet, then said, “Roll deception. What are you two doing?” This was directed towards Mortimer and Edgar.   
“Oh, we’re nearby.” Mortimer said, glancing at Edgar, who said, “I’m tuning my lute.”

“Roll insight, all three of you.” He handed Bean a d20.   
Everyone rolled.   
“19.” Bean said.   
“Add anything to that?” Pendergast asked.   
“I did.” She replied.

“The highest one from the three of us is 17, and that’s me.” Mortimer said.   
Pen folded his hands under his chin. “It seems plausible. You don’t really know enough about demons or tieflings to dispute it.”

Bean beamed at the other players.   
“I’m going to say, ‘Nice to meet you! I’m Brighid Featherstone—do you want to help us?’ And then she’s going to shake your hand really hard.” Emily said.  
“Uh… ‘sure, I’ll help, what do you need?’” Bean replied.  
“Max is going to cut in and say, ‘Mostly we wait around for Llew the Paladin to show up and give us a job so he can keep chasing after the princess of Breuddwyd-tir.’” Edgar added.

Pen rolled. “Edgar, roll perception?”   
Edgar rolled. “Fuck, 5.”  
Pen smiled sharply. “He’s right behind you.”   
“I wave.” Emily broke in. “’Hi Llew!’”

Llew had apparently been tasked by the princess to find and bring back—alive—a giantess.   
“Wait, why does she want a giantess anyway?” Bean asked.   
“Llew explains, ‘It’s not— _she’s_ not for her. Her wood elf friend, Erevan Holimion, swears that he’s dating a giant. Out of the kindness of her heart, Princess Maria wants to reunite them.’” Pen replied.   
“Did anyone check if Erevan Holimion is lying?” Bean asked.

Emily laughed. “Yeah, he’s got a major thing for the princess. Probably just deflected it in front of Llew, ‘cause, well, you know. God decided Llew and Maria are endgame.” She gestured at Pen, who shrugged. “I wouldn’t say _endgame_ … God knows Edgar keeps trying to tempt one or the other away, and the feelings are more on Llew’s side than Maria’s.”

Edgar grinned. “Speaking of which, ‘Hey Llew, how’s it goin’? You’re lookin’ hot today, want me to polish your armor? With my _tongue_?’ And then I make finger guns.”   
“He’s unimpressed, as always.” Pendergast replied. “Maybe you should have started with something like flowers.”   
“Nah, all or nothing.” Edgar said.

“Any specific type of giant?” Mortimer asked.   
“Llew pauses a moment, then pulls a bit of paper out of his pocket. ‘Apparently, she is the offspring of a storm giant and a fire giant. She has flaming red hair, and green eyes… well, one green eye. Let us hope that she takes after her storm giant half.’”   
“Why?” Bean asked.   
“Fire giants are lawful evil. Storm giants are chaotic good.” Pen replied. “Llew continues, ‘The princess wants her back for the Full Moon Ball, so we have two weeks.’”   
“What do we get out of it?” Edgar asked.

“50 gold each, same as any other quest he asks for help with.” Pen said. “Oh, and the giantess apparently lives beyond the impassable mountains. So, what are you going to do?”   
They eventually had a plan that was based around a hot air balloon powered by Mortimer’s fire-based cleric. They wouldn’t be able to get back with it, but it’d save time in the long run.

It seemed to work better than Pendergast had expected. “The storm is beginning to pick up. Make survival checks to try and locate the giant.”   
None of them rolled well.   
“You spend the night in a nearby cave as the storm picks up even more. It’s a full-on blizzard now”   
“Can we huddle together for warmth?” Edgar asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“Llew will keep his very cold armor on if you do.” Pen said firmly.   
“Fine. Max is going to be the middle spoon between Brighid and… Mortimer, what’s your new one called?”   
“Elias.”   
“Yeah, him.”

“Wait, I want to cuddle up to the fire guy.” Bean said.   
“I’ve got two sides.” Mortimer pointed out. “Max could be in front, and Juanita could be behind, with Llew and Brighid on the ends.”   
“Ah, cold armor.” Bean shuddered. “Can I ask him to take it off?”

Pendergast nodded. “Roll persuasion.”   
She rolled. “Natural 20.”   
“YES! WE GOT LLEW OUT OF HIS ARMOR!” Edgar cheered.   
“He realizes that for his own survival and your comfort, he should take off his armor. Thankfully, you find that he’s very warm underneath.” Pendergast said.   
“Oh, _yes_.” Edgar said.   
“He’s also very firm about keeping you in front of him, because of _that_ reaction.” Pendergast added.

The night passed quickly, and they were able to find the giantess the next day.   
“I say, ‘Hi, do you want to see your boyfriend?’” Emily said.   
“The giantess looks confused. ‘I don’t have a boyfriend.’”   
“Welp, Erevan just caught out in a lie. Let’s head home.” Mortimer said.

“I say, ‘would you like one?’” Edgar asked.   
“The giantess looks confused.” Pendergast said.   
“I go, ‘wait, wait, there’s this princess who _really_ wants to make her friend happy without having to actually date him, and he said that you were dating him, and this way the friend at least redirects the energy, right?’” Bean said.

Pendergast sighed. “Roll persuasion.”   
“Uh… add that… 15?”   
“She lets you into her cave to try and keep talking to her about it. You notice she’s scrawled things on the walls—prophecies partially, secrets otherwise. She mentioned that the Prince of Bentwood is a pig, for instance. She also seems to be really fighting any fire giant in her— she’s careful not to get too close to any of you in case you get crushed, and you can’t see any weapons.”

They did eventually manage to persuade her back to Breuddwyd-tir before the ball. That was when Pendergast stopped the session.

“It’s getting late.” He checked the time on his phone.   
Bean stifled a yawn. “But I… can I come back?”   
“Of course—I thought you were anyway.” Emily said.   
“I’d love for you to come back.” Edgar said.

Emily, Mortimer and Pendergast all glared at him.   
“What? We need more people, especially since Stryker and Bolt left us for the drama club.” Edgar said. “Dramatic bastards.”   
Pendergast began refilling his backpack. “Pot, kettle, Edgar. Mortimer, good job on not having your character die yet—new record, I think.”

Bean bit her lip. “Um, Pen, what’re we going to do about my shoes?”   
“Oh, well, I was thinking I could carry you back—”   
“Or Miri and I could loan her some shoes, and she could return them to Miri tomorrow or next week at the latest.” Emily said, leaning back in her chair.   
Bean and Pen both flushed.

“I’ll still walk you back, if that’s alright?” Pen said softly.   
Bean smiled at him. “Of course it’s alright.”   
Mortimer clapped a hand over Edgar’s mouth before he could interrupt.   
“Good! I mean, good, I wouldn’t want you to worry, walking alone in the dark.” Pendergast cleared his throat unconvincingly.

“Hey, soulmates, remember?” Bean chuckled.   
“Yeah, soulmates.” Pendergast grinned ear to ear.   
“Besides, I had a lot of fun tonight, way more than I thought I would. Thanks for saving me, brave knight.” She leaned over on her tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek.

Pendergast flushed.   
“Holy shit.” Emily said.   
That was when Bean and Pen realized that they still had an audience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this probably wasn't the DnD session y'all were dreaming of. Sorry. 
> 
> Please run Breuddwyd-tir through Google Translate, you'll see just how uncreative Pen and I are. (His Paladin is technically named Llew Llaw Gyffes after the mythological character (shay-o shaow Giff-is) but also because his middle name is Llewellyn and he chopped off the last two syllables). Similarly, Princess Maria was named such because I know that Bean's middle name apparently really is Mariabeanie, and again the last two syllables got chopped off. 
> 
> Anyway, I projected REAL hard into this chapter not going to lie. I have done the hot air balloon powering myself, actually.


	7. Eye Contact is a Lot Easier when you've only got one

“Well, here we are.” Bean said quietly.   
“Here we are.” Pen replied, shifting his weight from foot to foot.   
“Do you want to come up?” She asked quickly.

Before Pen could reply—though he had turned red—Luci had opened the window and yelled out, “Young lady, it is past your bedtime!”   
“Fuck off, Luci!” Bean yelled back.   
Pen cleared his throat. “I had better be going, my mother will be expecting me home soon.”

Bean nodded. “Um… will I see you again? Soon?”   
He smiled at her. “Of course. We could meet up after class on Monday if you want?”   
“I’d love that—”   
“Jesus Christ, just fuck already! What kind of rom-com meet-cute scenario are you trying to go for?” Luci interrupted.

They both glared at him.   
“I think I better get going too.” Bean leaned up and kissed Pen on the cheek. “Thanks for rescuing me.”   
“N-no problem.” Pen replied faintly, slowly lifting a hand to where she’d kissed him as she went inside. “See you on Monday!” Bean called before she shut the door.   
“See you on Monday.” He repeated.

Luci cackled. “ _Wow_ , that’s an expression I haven’t seen in a while.”   
“Right, you’re the one that thinks we’re… soulmates.” Pen said slowly.   
“You tell me—ever had that reaction to a woman before?”   
“No.”   
“Feel like you’ve known her longer than… two days?”

Pen crossed his arms. “You’re very astute.”   
“It’s a gift.” Luci replied with a grin. “And y’know, I actually _have_ been through this song and dance before. If it helps, you’re doing a _lot_ better than last time. No headbutts. No arrests. No… getting kicked in the face when you were seventeen.” Luci dissolved into cackling.   
“You’re hilarious.” Pen deadpanned, just as Luci was shoved out of the way.

Bean replaced him in the window. “Um, we didn’t say good night.”   
“ _Oh my fucking God!”_ Luci yelled next to her.   
Pen wasn’t listening. “Good night.”   
“Good night.” Bean replied.   
“Good night.” Pen said again.

Bean grinned, showing off her teeth. “Good night.”   
“Good night!” Luci interrupted. “You guys can see each other again on Monday.”   
Pen finally walked away, humming to himself and smiling.   
“Weird that you spent so long at Dagmar’s that your mode of transportation and companion changed completely.” Luci commented.   
“Shut up.” Bean said.   
“Even weirder that this apparently happened _without_ your phone, and your shoes changed.”   
“I’m leaving now.” Bean said. “It’s getting late.”

Luci handed her back her phone. “Just in case you want to text your knight in shining armor.”   
She snatched it out of his hands. “Did you go through my messages?”   
“Pfft, I don’t need to.” Luci said. “ _But_ , I will ask that you don’t leave me alone with Elfo for extended time again.”   
“What’d you do?” Bean demanded.

“We kidnapped a swan.” Luci replied nonchalantly.   
Elfo gave a scream of pain from the bathroom. “Ducko, _no_!”   
“Can you put it back?” Bean asked.   
“No, I think Ducko’s here to stay.” Luci replied.

“…can you get it out of the bathroom? I’m going to need to shit eventually.”   
“No promises.”   
“ _Thanks_ , Luci. You’re the best.” Bean said sarcastically as she went to her room. After a few hours on her laptop, she fell asleep. Across town, Pendergast did the same. They both dreamed the same dream, even if it wasn’t the same point of view.

For Bean, she knew, instinctively, that it was the medieval ages, that she was a princess—the way that you _know_ things in dreams and don’t question them. Of course she didn’t have a princess dress though, she had brown leggings and a teal shirt, and comfortable boots.

She made her way to the top of a tower, where a knight with familiar ginger-brown hair was watching something approach. He didn’t have glasses though, he had an eyepatch, and somehow that made sense to her.   
“How’s it going, Pendergast?” She said.   
“…they’ll be here within a day.” He replied quietly.

That was when she noticed an approaching army.   
“We can take them, right?” She grinned at him.   
He sighed. “…your father asked me to tell you that there’s a boat that will take you far away from Dreamland if you need it.”   
She scoffed. “I thought you knew me better than that. I’m not leaving.”

“No, I figured you’d say that.” He gave her a very small smile. “What are you going to do if we lose, though?”   
“We’re not going to lose.”   
He crossed his arms. “While I admire your faith in me and my knights, you are aware—I’m worried that if we lose—look, princess. What happens to women in conquered kingdoms is bad enough, but what happens to _princesses_ of conquered kingdoms is a more public version.”

“And here I thought you knew I was capable of killing kings.” She snapped.   
Pendergast recoiled. “I… am sorry. For all of that. I should have testified that it was an accident.”   
“It was a power-grab, Pendergast.” She sighed. “Besides, you coming out on my side in a witchcraft trial wouldn’t have gone well for either of us.”   
“…I’m glad. That you’re not dead.” He said quickly.

She grinned at him. “And I’m glad that you’re not dead. And to keep you not dead, I’m going to fight with you.”   
“Absolutely not—you are a _princess_ and untrained and—”   
“We could spend all day arguing about it, but I’m not staying just so I can watch. You need all the help you can get.”

He watched her warily. “Please don’t incapacitate me on the eve of battle, princess.”   
She grinned and leaned closer. He (predictably) flushed.   
“Well, if I can take _you_ out, surely I can help out in battle?”   
“Your father will never forgive me if you get hurt.”   
“He doesn’t have to know.”

Pendergast seemed to consider this. “…fine. You have unnatural luck anyway, it might as well help us. _But_ , I’m only agreeing because I’m desperate, princess. And, if I know you the way I think I do, you’d prefer to fall on a sword rather than…”   
“You’re right.” She said. “Thanks, Pendergast.” She beamed at him, and he glanced away.

“This has nothing to do with what I just said, it’s not a trade or anything, and of course you don’t have to—”   
“Just say it.”   
“Can I kiss you?” He asked softly, making eye contact with her.

“Wh…why do you want to?”   
He leaned against the battlement. “Think of it as the last request of a dying man. May I, princess?”   
“I told you, we’re going to win tomorrow.”   
He watched her. “I don’t seem to have your luck. Humor me?”

She stepped closer, then he gently pressed his lips to hers. She deepened it, opening her mouth, and his hands pulled her body closer, resting on her hips, as hers tangled in his hair. She scraped her teeth along his lower lip, and he made a surprised sound.   
She pulled her mouth away, but their hands stayed where they were. “Got any other last requests?” Bean teased, licking her lips.   
“I’m sure I could think of something.” Pendergast said huskily.

That was when both Bean and Pen woke up. Pen buried his face in his hands as he sat up, glancing over at Thomas’ bed. Well, at least he was alone in his humiliation. Thomas hadn’t stirred at all. Something else had though. Sometimes, Pen _deeply_ regretted having to share a room with his elder brother.

Bean, meanwhile, stared up at the ceiling. This was _clearly_ the result of Luci going on and on about the stupid reincarnation thing. Slowly, she raised a hand to her lips. Why did they still tingle like it’d just happened? Eventually, they both fell back to fitful sleep.


	8. Oh right these guys

Bean and Pen texted over the weekend, but somehow, they managed to make it to Monday without seeing each other. Ducko was eventually lured out of the bathroom after Elfo made pancakes, but that brought him to the kitchen instead. Bean, Elfo and Luci solemnly watched Ducko splash around in the kitchen sink while they ate takeaway food.

“I’m pretty sure you guys should get rid of it.” Bean said, dipping her naan bread in her butter chicken sauce.   
“No, he’s coming around to us!” Elfo said.   
Ducko squawked at him, and Elfo immediately surrendered his naan bread to the creature.   
“I agree with Bean, we can’t have any parties with this thing around.” Luci said.

“It was your idea!” Elfo hissed at him.   
Luci blinked at him. “ _Why_ would I say such a thing?”   
“You said every girl you’ve ever known has always wanted a swan?”   
Luci burst out laughing, which startled Ducko. He started hissing and trying to make himself look bigger.

“Oh my God, I _did_ say that…” Luci said fondly. “Didn’t expect you to believe me, though.”   
“Get rid of the swan, guys.” Bean huffed, tossing Ducko a bit of her bread. “I have class tomorrow, but by the time I get back…”   
“I doubt your one true love is going to be put off by Ducko.” Luci pointed out.   
“He’s not my one true love.” Bean hissed.

“Sorry, your soulmate, with a connection lacing back to the reign of Zog the first.” Luci took a bite of his food. “Speaking of which, you should probably go on a date to the castle.”   
“That… actually sounds like a good idea. He likes history. Thanks, Luci.”   
“I like history!” Elfo broke into the conversation.

Luci shook his head slowly. “Then surely, you know all swans are property of the queen?”   
“I—what?”   
“Oh, yes, you committed a felony. And for what? Like I said, Pendergast’s not going to let Ducko stop him. If Bean wants to get laid, she’s getting laid, dammit. The sound of Ducko mauling you to death isn’t going to stop them.”   
“Luci!” Bean said sharply. “C’mon man. I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Right, right.” Luci said dismissively. “You like having sex on top of battlements instead of in bed like normal people.”   
“I never—how do you know about that?”   
Luci raised an eyebrow. “Better question, how do _you_? That sounds a lot more like someone trying to hide something than someone who thinks I’m insane.”   
“I don’t know, I’ve been having these… weird dreams.” Bean admitted. One weird dream in particular, really.

“Well, I hope he remembered to pull out in the dream, because he didn’t last time.” Luci muttered.   
Bean nearly choked on her food. “…I’m on the Nexplanon contraceptive implant.”   
“Oh, well then you should be fine.” Luci said. “I’m glad someone took one of you aside and explained how to use birth control. I was _really_ afraid that I’d have to do it.”   
She glanced at him. “…you know, I’m glad we’re friends. Not because of the weird shit you say about me and Pen being soulmates, but… because I know you have my back. And that you would, if I wanted to do stupid shit like steal a swan.”

“He doesn’t have my back.” Elfo huffed.   
“Eh, don’t worry about it. I’m all about stupid shit.” Luci said, bumping Bean’s shoulder affectionately.   
“You guys want to try luring Ducko out of the apartment with bread?” Bean asked.   
“Hell yeah!” Luci cheered.

The next morning, Bean managed to get up, shower, and eat breakfast in their newly free kitchen before she left for class. The University of Dreamland wasn’t too far away from where she lived, but it wasn’t right next to it either. She found the lecture theatre easily enough, with time to spare.

Unfortunately, she also found Merkimer.   
“Hello, Tiabeanie!” He always smiled with too much teeth.   
“Hi, Merkimer. I didn’t know you’re in Language and Literature.” She could be civil— _she could be civil_.   
“Oh, God, no. I’m in History. This is a joint module.” Merkimer said. “Listen, now that our mothers are no longer dating—”

And dear God if she didn’t want to open _that_ can of worms. “It’s fine.”   
He grabbed her hand, and she ground her teeth, because her Dad would yell at her if she got escorted off-campus by security on her first day. She’d wait until the second day.

“Tiabeanie, I’ve always had feelings for you.” Merkimer said.   
Bean leaned around him and made eye contact with a blonde girl across the room, who had beads braided intricately into her hair, and patched overalls.   
“I’ve never acted on them, because who would want to date their stepbrother—”   
“Oh my God, how are you?!” The blonde girl squealed in a Scandinavian accent, coming over and pulling Bean into a hug. “I haven’t seen you in forever!”

Bean did not know this person, but she was deeply grateful. “Oh my God, how was your summer?”   
“Oh, you know.” She said in thickly-accented English.   
“Excuse me, we were having a conversation—” Merkimer began.   
The blonde girl stared at him with wide eyes. “But I need to catch up with my brother’s ex! I was so upset when they split up—she was the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“Well, be that as it may—” Merkimer tried.   
The blonde girl turned her full attention on Bean. “You were right to leave him. You’re too good for him. But I really wanted to stay in contact with you. You don’t mind, right?” This last part was directed back to Merkimer.

“Actually, I do mind.” Merkimer huffed.   
“Aw, c’mon, Merkimer. She was the best part about dating… Sven.” Bean said the first Norse name that came to mind, and the blonde girl nodded.   
“I’m sure there’ll be other opportunities for you to hit on her, but please, I was so hoping that you and Sven would get back together. There was talk of a _wedding_ , you know, and I know neither of you could hack a long-distance relationship, but…” The blonde girl slowly shook her head. “Please give my brother another chance.”   
“How could I say no when you ask like that? Sorry Merkimer, but I’m taken.” Bean said.

Merkimer blinked. “So… you’re going to marry Sven Einarsson?”   
“Yes.” Bean said, because how the _fuck_ did she actually get this guy’s name right?   
“Huh.” Merkimer said, before he turned on his heel to go bother someone else.

The blonde girl released Bean’s hands. “I’m Magnhild. That bought you a bit of time, but I didn’t expect you to actually know Sven’s name. …also didn’t expect him to know Sven, that’s worrying.”   
“Don’t worry about it—thanks for your help.” Bean said, right before Merkimer returned. With Pendergast.

“Merkimer, I said I don’t want to meet your stepsister…” Pen sighed, before flushing. “Hi, Bean.”   
“Hi, Pen.”   
“Oh, good, you two already know each other. She’s getting married—can you believe it?” Merkimer said.   
“I… can’t.” Pen said, legitimately caught off guard.

“Oh no.” Magnhild muttered. “Oh no no no, this shouldn’t become a _thing_.”   
Bean elbowed her. “Well, I mean… Magnhild was the one who said… we were kind of joking.”   
“Don’t be modest. Magnhild proposed on behalf of her brother and you accepted.” Merkimer said.   
“….why am I involved in this?” Pen asked, finally turning to Merkimer.

“Well, I just want to spread the good news of my ex-stepsister’s upcoming nuptials.” Merkimer said. “And since we’re friends—”   
“We’re not friends.” Pen interrupted.   
“I thought I’d start with you.” Merkimer finished, smiling brilliantly.

“I thought you were trying to hit on your ex-stepsister before I came over.” Magnhild pointed out.  
“Well, that was before I knew she was going to marry _Sven Einarsson_.” Merkimer snorted. “I’m not getting my face smashed in over a girl—no offense, Tiabeanie. Let everyone know that I’m firmly in favor of the couple.”   
Pen gingerly felt his reset nose. “…who’s Sven Einarsson?”

“Norwegian transfer student—captain of the rugby team. Big. Brawny.” Merkimer said.   
“We have a rugby team?” Pen asked, obviously caught off guard.   
“Not a good one. My brother’s the best player.” Magnhild scoffed.

Pen’s eyes settled on Bean. “Congratulations.”   
With that, he hefted his backpack and walked away.   
“Let’s go find more friends.” Merkimer said.   
“Let’s not.” Magnhild replied, as Bean took out her phone.

A few minutes later, Pendergast, waiting for the lecture hall to open, took out his phone.

_(Princess) 9:57pm  
I’m not marrying Sven!! That was just a lie to make Merkimer stop hitting on me!! I’m event exting LIKE THIS so you know what I mean!! _

Oh.

_(Sir Pendergast) 9:58am  
Aren’t you his step-sister? _

_(Princess) 9:58am  
R moms brke up! I made I contct w/ Magnet 2 make him go away!! _

_(Princess) 9:59am  
*Magnhild nvm _

He was texting back a reply, trying to make ‘wait don’t go’ sound less desperate than it was when Bean rounded the corner and marched right up to him.   
“Hi.” He said.   
“H—we’re not doing this again!” She glared up at him.   
He shrugged. “Unfortunate, but this is no longer the 1200s, and I cannot fight another hand for your hand in marriage.”   
“Wh… that’s not a thing.”   
“Well…” He was definitely stretching a lot of medieval convention to arrive at that, yes. He had been thinking about what Merkimer had said though, that he wouldn’t fight for her. Pen would. If she wanted. But something told him she could fight her own battles.

It didn’t stop him from fantasizing, in the last few minutes, about punching that stupid brawny Norwegian in his stupid face.   
“Besides, I cannot fight for a lady’s honour without her favour.” He grinned at her.   
“You’re _ridiculous_.”

“On a more prescient note, how is Einarsson going to react to the whole thing?” Pen asked.   
“Uh…” Bean clearly hadn’t thought that through.   
“Because I would like a warning if he comes up to me annoyed that I kissed his ‘fiancée’ to save his own reputation.” Pen continued.   
Bean blinked up at him. “Kiss…?”

“May I, princess?” He asked softly.   
Her eyes widened, but before she could reply, the doors opened and the previous lecture filed out, talking and laughing, and the incoming lecture filed in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can tell, I cannot and will not give up my OCs for love or money. 
> 
> Also regarding the Nexplanon implant, that's what I have too. Basically, it works like the pill, but it's in your arm and you don't have to do anything.


	9. A Letter Which *I* Composed

It should be mentioned at this point, that this particular class had been designed by two specific people. It had been designed as an act of love. Professor Odval, surname redacted, had taught medieval history for twenty-five years and had no intentions of stopping anytime soon. He had even married another professor—Professor Soren “Sorcerio” Chariot. Sorcerio, however, had taught English for _thirty_ years.

There should have been time to devote to how their love had blossomed from an entirely too intense rivalry with offices too close together to the tender love that it was when our story began, but alas, it was not their story. Indeed, the relevance here is that Odval had glanced over at Sorcerio while they had tea and graded papers, and he fell in love with him all over again. And then he decided that he wanted to work alongside the love of his life.

Not in their small garden, like they already did. Not with their separate classes and disciplines. No, Odval had decided, in that moment, that they would have a joint class. Joint work. It took months to get it approved, but it was up and running for the new school year. This was his love letter to Sorcerio, witnessed by about three hundred first year students. …Odval was not really the best at sappy romantic gestures, it must be said.

He did note the usual people with no appreciation for the _art_ of history—those who probably didn’t even know Herodotus from Thucydides. He also noted Zog’s… well, for lack of a better term, pet project. It wasn’t that he disliked Pendergast Griffiths—quite the opposite. He was well aware that the current system of administration rested on his relatively young shoulders. Zog would have been screwed if his protégé had chosen business instead of academia. Odval somewhat wished Pendergast had chosen business instead.

He also flinched upon noticing who was following Pendergast into the room. Zog’s daughter herself, with the same platinum blonde hair as her mother. Odval repressed a shudder as he remembered Dagmar. What a wicked woman. Odval hadn’t seen Tiabeanie Grunkwitz’s name on any class lists, so he had to assume she was Sorcerio’s problem.

She was pointedly following Pendergast, who was just as pointedly not looking at her and blushing.   
Odval suddenly had the terrible conviction that they had engaged in-in… _some sort of sexual relations_. He prayed that it had not been in his nice, clean lecture theatre. He also prayed that there had been some sort of care put into it—if he recalled correctly, that was exactly how Tiabeanie herself had come about, not that he had wanted to hear or think about it then either.

He finally got the PowerPoint up; looking around, he noticed that Zog’s protégé was in the second row, Tiabeanie had followed him, and that Norwegian transfer student that kept popping up was next to her. Odval was beginning to have a headache—ah, there was the heir to the Bentwood fortune as well, almost on cue. Perhaps next time, it would be best to just get Sorcerio flowers.

“Good morning!” Sorcerio said brightly. “We’re happy to see you all here for History and Literature: The Stories that Make Us!”   
Odval was not actually happy to see these people. Odval loved teaching—except for the students. Sorcerio was better at hiding it.   
“This semester, you will be learning the relations between history and fiction; and when there are limited written primary resources, you’ll be seeing fiction pop up a lot more than you think. It can show what popular trends and conceptions there were at the time.”

“And for literature students, what trends and conceptions there are _now_.” Sorcerio said, before smiling evilly. Odval loved that smile—the one that said, ‘you think this will be easy, you little shits?’ God, Odval loved him. Sorcerio was content to play the kind, doddering old man if it suited him, but he hid a shark-like intellect and ambition.

Odval looked at the room—alright, he looked at the ones he was worried about. The Norwegian was staring at him with terrifying intensity, but that was to be expected. Zog’s protégé was taking notes, and Tiabeanie was doodling. Alright, everyone seemed to be playing into their expectations. He let himself relax a bit as he and his love discussed the syllabus. Maybe this semester wouldn’t be god-awful.

“What kind of fairy-tales would we be discussing?” The Bentwood heir asked, interrupting the lecture.   
Sorcerio glanced at Odval, who was very obviously counting to ten in his mind. Of course. _Of course_.   
“We’ll be getting to that in a moment.” Sorcerio said.   
Merkimer looked like he wanted to continue, but the Norwegian transfer student pulled out something that looked _suspiciously_ like a knife.

She uncapped the hilt and began taking notes with it, so it was a pen, but he noticed that her hand never went to the ‘blade’. Dear God, she had a combination knife-pen… and now Zog’s daughter was taking interest in this abomination of school rules. He couldn’t find it in himself to care though, because it had shut Bentwood up.

Pendergast had glanced at the knife, but overall seemed to still be taking notes. He stilled as Odval mentioned the partner project; wherein a Literature student would partner with a History student to work on a paper and eventually a presentation on their choice of a historical work of fiction. Pendergast glanced at Bean, but so did the Norwegian chit and the Bentwood heir. Dear God, she was a wolf surrounded by incredibly hungry sheep who didn’t want to have to venture outside of their social circles, such as they were.

“If you do not email us with your partner by the end of the week, partners will be chosen for you.” Odval added stiffly. The Norwegian and the Bentwood heir stared at Tiabeanie harder, but she was looking at Pendergast, who was blushing again. Imbeciles. He wasn’t saying that they had to get _married_ for the project. That was when he remembered that he had failed to pass out the registers. He had visions of multiple students stabbing themselves on that blasted pen. While Sorcerio was talking about the presentations, Odval started flinging the registers at students. “Take them and pass them on.” He hissed quietly, not wanting to upset Sorcerio’s flow.

To better distribute them, he also went up the stairs, before he paused and gave the last register to the Bentwood heir, right at the bottom.   
“Be sure to sign the register.” Sorcerio said pleasantly as the students noticed that time had run out. Odval sighed as the registers were brought back to the front only for the front to be mobbed. Detestable. Then he looked away from the stress vortex with Tiabeanie Grunkwitz at the centre, at his love, and decided that maybe it was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ominous chanting in the background) _A love letter, a love letter, a love letter........._
> 
> Anyway, I'll try to update again soon, hope y'all enjoyed this foray into Odval and Sorcerio's lives.


	10. Even if Magnhild isn't in this one, it goes out to her Knife Pen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank God Pen doesn't have a knife LMAO

Bean cursed Pen’s longer legs. Fine, he wasn’t going to talk to her in class, but now? Now he was free, and she needed to talk to him.   
“Pendergast Griffiths, stop walking or so help me God I will tackle you!” She snapped.   
That stopped him, mostly because they were walking on stones that weren’t small enough to be gravel, which surrounded the university bar, and if she tackled him they’d _definitely_ cut up his face.

“You can’t just… say that and then pretend it didn’t happen!” Bean huffed.   
Pen sighed. “You’re right, I apologize.”   
“Jesus fucking—it doesn’t have to be a dying request for you to kiss me!”   
He stared at her. “What did you say?”

“I said it doesn’t have to be a dying request for you to… oh right, Luci got inside my head and…” She trailed off.   
He looked like he’d seen a ghost. “I… had a dream recently. With that premise.”   
She blinked up at him. “No? I had that dream.”   
“I think we both did. When was this?”

“Friday. After DnD.”   
“Same. …you don’t think…?”   
“No. I mean it can’t be _real_ , right?” She laughed a little too quickly, a little too loud.   
Pen didn’t seem so sure. “I mean, it’d be easy to check. There was a big battle coming. That’s the kind of thing that gets written down, right? And if there was no big battle, then maybe Miri slipped something in our drinks.”

“Yes! Yes. Good theory.” Bean added. “Um… do you want to be partners for the projects?”   
“I don’t think dreams count as fiction, prin… Bean.” He coughed awkwardly, trying to cover the fact that he’d nearly addressed her by the nickname.   
“No, I meant… generally. You know, so we can spend more time together.”   
“So we can get to the bottom of this.” Pen nodded slowly. “Smart. Do you want to email Professor Odval, then?”

“…sure. Why are you acting like this?” Bean asked.   
“Like what?”   
“Like we’re going backwards.” She huffed, frustrated.   
He scratched the back of his neck. “It was… improper for me to ask that of you. I barely know you, and I—”

She grabbed his jacket and pulled him down into a rough kiss. Their teeth clashed for a minute, before she started gently scraping her teeth along his lower lip. His arms curled around her, pulling her closer. They stayed like that for at least a minute, before Merkimer walked by. “I am… so confused.”   
“What’s to be confused about?” Pen asked as they broke away. He was grinning.   
“Sven Einarsson.” Merkimer replied readily.

“Piss off, Merkimer.” Bean said succinctly, trying to pull Pen back into another kiss.   
“…don’t we have class?” Merkimer asked.   
“Class…?” Pen repeated, before pulling away. “Shit! Class!” He pulled away, then thought better of it and pecked Bean on the forehead, before running towards the main building.   
“So, about what I was saying earlier…” Merkimer said, trying to jog towards the main building while talking to her.

She raised two fingers at him and pointedly walked in the other direction. Merkimer promptly gave up and went to class, admittedly somewhat late. He slid into a seat next to Pen, who was still grinning like a madman. It was unsettling. Also, Merkimer liked knowing what was going on—and about an hour ago, Bean had been engaged to marry Sven Einarsson, and now she was making Pendergast smile like that? What was going on?

He waved a hand in front of Pen’s face, subtly so that the professor didn’t notice. His hand got lightly swatted away, but that expression didn’t change. _Creepy_. Perhaps it was best that he himself hadn’t fallen under the spell of Tiabeanie.

Merkimer _was_ listening to the seminar, really, but every so often he’d glance over at Pendergast, who was still creepily smiling and staring off into space. A quick glance at Pendergast’s notebook in front of him revealed that it straight up was not open. Occasionally, his closed pen would scratch the top, like he was pretending to write. Merkimer seemed to be the only one to notice.

Pen _did_ leave when it was time though, so apparently he wasn’t that lost to daydreams.   
“Are you alright?” Merkimer asked, following him.   
Pen’s face slipped back into the same expression it always had when he saw Merkimer. “Yeah, why do you ask?”   
“Because you’ve been smiling non-stop for the last fifty minutes, and before that, you were utterly unresponsive.”

Pen shrugged. “I… it’s not every day I get kissed by…” He trailed off, and the sappy grin is returning.   
Merkimer snapped his fingers in Pen’s face. “Oi! None of that! What’d she do, put a spell on you?”   
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Pen snorted. He then muttered something to Merkimer that sounded suspiciously like, “This is _exactly_ why I didn’t testify at her witchcraft trial.” Which Merkimer wasn’t going to touch, but at least Pen knew about the court-mandated rehab.

“Can someone _please_ explain to me what’s going on?” Merkimer asked.   
“Nothing’s going on.” Pen said.   
“…so if I ask her to partner up with me, you won’t have a problem with that?” Merkimer pushed.   
“I mean, we’re already partners.” Pen said.

Merkimer had had fifty minutes to think about this. He had decided that the marriage to Sven Einarsson was a non-issue, a prank that Tiabeanie had played on him. At least she hadn’t said _no_ to him, although clearly he wasn’t her type. Merkimer had met Pen last year when he was looking at universities, and he had talked to Zog himself (who was a lot better than his stepmother had said). Merkimer had offered to help him carry paperwork—mostly to look good in front of Mummy. Pen had raised an eyebrow, dropped several binders into Merkimer’s arms, and watched him struggle before taking back the full load like it was nothing.

It was probably a _very_ bad idea to provoke Pen. So that’s what Merkimer was about to do. “Well, if she’s getting married and she’s fooling around with you, do you think I might be able to….” He trailed off at the dark look in Pendergast’s eyes.   
“Well, no woman would be able to resist me anyway.” Merkimer said. “And she was probably always going to leave Einarsson for me.”   
Pen set his jaw. “I doubt it. She’s not the loose woman you seem to think she is.”

“’Loose woman’? Pendergast, it’s the twenty-first century.”   
“And what _enlightened_ take on the situation are you going to give me?” Pen crossed his arms.   
Merkimer frowned. Pendergast was settling into himself.   
“Well, it’s not a question of _enlightenment_ , I’m just saying she’s a… well, look at it this way, Pendergast. What do _you_ really have to offer her? And yet, the hour after her _engagement_ , she’s making out with you.”   
“Tread _very_ carefully with your next words, Merkimer.” Pen growled, looming over the shorter man.   
Merkimer scoffed at the blatant attempt to scare him. “Why does it matter? She’s a tramp—she’s not someone you’d necessarily want to be with long-term.”

“That wasn’t _careful_ , Merkimer.” Pen snarled. “That was the opposite of careful. And she’s worth ten—no, a _thousand_ of you. She’s not a _tramp_ , or a loose woman, or anything like that.”   
“Are you going to hit me?” Merkimer asked softly, looking at Pendergast’s balled fists.   
Pen very slowly let his hands unclench. “No. You’re not worth it. Not here, at least. But if you _ever_ bother her again—”   
“Speaking of not worth it…” Merkimer muttered. Pendergast ground his teeth so hard Merkimer nearly heard a tooth crack.

“Alright, I can see there’s only one way you’re going to listen to anything but the sound of your own voice.” Pendergast huffed. That was the only warning Merkimer got before a fist was flying towards his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I straight up based the layout of this partially on my university, so the area they're walking past is actually a clinic/a mental health support centre, and then just straight up a bar. It's also on the main water landmark in the city, so it's nice. 
> 
> No, you don't get to know where I live but suffice to say I doubt it'd be recognizable if I mentioned it.


	11. Due to Author Error, have 2 uploads within 20 minutes

“It’s not lookin’ good for ya, Gast.” Zog said. “C’mon, your first day?”   
“He dishonored the name of… a young woman that I’m acquainted with.”   
“You’re gettin’ fancy, so you’re gettin’ uncomfortable.” Zog looked at Pendergast, holding his own hands in his lap. “Who’s the girl gotcha like this?”   
“Remember the girl I mentioned from the coffee shop?” Pen said softly.

Zog passed a hand over his eyes. “Aw, hell, Gast. I told ya, girls like that are just trouble.”   
“It’s not her fault!”   
“Jesus fuckin’… even my daughta managed not to punch the son of a bitch botherin’ her on her first day of university, Pen. Of course, she’s got bigger problems, but this ain’t about her.”   
Pen looked down.

“Gast, you were so chatty earlier. Talk t’me.”   
“I have nothing more to say.” Pen said. “Shouldn’t you… keep going?”   
“Gast, you’re used ta people just… yellin’ atcha, right?” Zog asked quietly. “And I admit, I yell. Usually at my fuckin’ kids… alright, usually at my daughta. I don’t want to yell atcha, Gast. But I also don’t wantcha to go to jail for assault.”

“It was just one punch.”   
“Gast, ya knocked him flat on his ass.”   
“It was a good punch.”   
“ _Gast_.” Zog grinned, before composing himself. “Ya know, I always hoped you’d find someone. Someone good for ya. Is this girl worth it?”   
Pen shrugged. “I think so. Merkimer didn’t. He said that she wasn’t… well, he said she wasn’t the marrying type.”   
“…you white knighted.” Zog sighed. “I’m not surprised—that’s how you got yer nose busted.”   
Pen shrugged. “Merkimer doesn’t hit nearly as hard as Thomas.”

“Yeah, ‘cause Merkimer hits harder with the _law_.” Zog snapped. “…I asked him not to press charges. I don’t know… maybe he won’t. I remember the scraps I got into with his dad Lorenzo back in the day, and I always won those too. But I was just as rich an’ powerful as Lorenzo. And I don’t know if like father like son… yer more like me than that shithead that married yer mother, and Derek’s not like me at all.”   
“I… think of you as a father as well.” Pen admitted.   
“Good, so you get that next time this happens, you’re on your own.”

“Definitely. …thank you, by the way.” Pen said.   
Zog waved him off. “Hey, if it doesn’t work out with Little Miss Tramp, try datin’ my daughta. Maybe you’ll become my son for real, eh? Besides, she’s not so bad anymore.”   
Pen grimaced. “I’ve never even met your daughter.”

“…yeah, makes sense. I don’t think you two would get along anyway. She’s… wild.” Zog said. “Don’t know where she gets it from.”   
Pen pointedly ignored the part of the conversation where Zog had just admitted to multiple youthful scraps. “No idea, sir.”   
“Gast, no _sir_. Ya know that.”

“I thought I might be… on probation.” Pen tried very hard not to squirm.   
“Punished, ya mean. …ya need it, I can’t just say ya got off with a slap on the wrist. So I’m gonna make ya babysit my daughta instead of hangin’ out with Little Miss Tramp.”   
“I thought your daughter was an adult.”   
“Yeah, that’s what she thinks too. We can say it’s for tutorin’, or somethin’. I don’t know. We’ll work it out.”

“It’s the first week of university—does she even do history?”   
“Nah. Not her thing—wants to be her own person, y’know? But ya have other skills. You know how to be an adult. And I think that’s what she needs.”   
Pen bowed his head. “I… thank you.”   
“Yer welcome. I won’t even make ya tell her yerself.” Zog laughed. “Even if you do handle all that stuff for me usually.”

Pen smiled hesitantly. “So… I’m free to go?”   
“For now. Come back t’morrow, then you’ll see the real side of the punishment.” Zog laughed. “She’ll probably climb out the window givin’ you the middle finger as soon as you walk in.”   
“I’m sure it won’t be that bad.”   
“Oh, no, that was something she actually did.” Zog said. “That was one of her better times.”

“Oh.” Said Pen.   
“Yeah.” Zog grinned evilly. “Guess you shouldn’t go punchin’ Merkimer Bentwood, even if he insults yer lady love.”   
“And what if it had been that woman who you’ve been having me send flowers to that was insulted?” Pen leaned back, arms crossed.   
“Ursula?” Zog blinked. “Yeah, I would have punched any smug asshole for Ursula, but Ursula isn’t Little Miss Tramp.”

“ _Please_ stop calling her that. She’s not _actually_ a tramp, that was the point.” Pen pointed out.   
“Fair enough. It makes you not… do the face.”   
“Smile.” Pendergast corrected.   
“Yeah. Don’t do that again, it’s unnatural.” Zog said. “Make work your new favorite thing. Anyway, tell ‘em I beat you or somethin’, so they know I’m not going soft. Dismissed.”

Pen immediately checked his messages upon leaving Zog’s office. Well, more accurately, he left the building containing Zog’s office, wandered over to the bike rack, and leaned against his motorcycle as he checked the messages.

_(Princess) 12:45pm  
Where r u??_

_(Princess) 1:01pm  
Did u frk out bc we kissed??? _

_(Princess) 1:14pm  
Ohhhhh my godddd pen do I have to chase u evry time we kiss?? Not cool _

_(Sir Pendergast) 1:45pm  
Sorry about that. Just got my ass chewed out by various officials for the last few hours. _

_(Princess) 1:46pm  
Wht hppned? _

_(Sir Pendergast) 1:47pm  
I punched Merkimer in the face. _

_(Princess) 1:48pm  
Y?? _

_(Sir Pendergast) 1:49pm  
It’s complicated. _

_(Princess) 1:49pm  
P E N_

_(Sir Pendergast) 1:50pm  
He said some unsavory things about you. _

_(Princess) 1:50pm  
P E N _

_(Princess) 1:52pm  
I no he says shit!! He says shit all the time!! I prpsflly kpt my tmpr in check TODAY bc he sux!!! _

_(Princess) 1:52pm  
Wht did they do 2 u?? _

_(Sir Pendergast) 1:53pm  
Not much. Eventually ended up sitting in front of Professor Grunkwitz. _

_(Princess) 1:53pm  
P E N _

_(Sir Pendergast) 1:54pm  
It really isn’t much. But I am supposed to say that he beat me. _

_(Princess) 1:55pm  
Do u need me 2 kill him 4 u? _

_(Sir Pendergast) 1:57pm  
Please don’t. It will make my life so much harder. _

_(Princess) 1:58pm  
;) _

_(Sir Pendergast) 1:59pm  
BEAN _

_(Princess) 2:00pm  
C how it feels?? 2 wrry abt some1?? _

_(Sir Pendergast) 2:01pm  
I see your point. I’m sorry.. _

_(Princess) 2:02pm  
R u rlly tho _

_(Sir Pendergast) 2:04pm  
I’m sorry that I worried you. Not sorry that I punched Merkimer, even if one was the cause of the other. On the plus side, I’m fine. _

_(Princess) 2:05pm  
Nxt tme u mght not b _

_(Sir Pendergast) 2:06pm  
Oh, I definitely won’t be fine next time. Professor Grunkwitz was very clear about that. _

_(Princess) 2:07pm  
Jst call him Zog lke evry1 else _

_(Sir Pendergast) 2:08pm  
No. _

_(Sir Pendergast) 2:08pm  
Do you want to meet up?_

_(Princess) 2:10pm  
: ( I hv class. Strts n 20 min. _

_(Sir Pendergast) 2:11pm  
I’ll buy you lunch. _

_(Princess) 2:12pm  
LMAO alrdy had lnch w8ng 4 u 2 check in _

_(Princess) 2:12pm  
Thx tho _

_(Princess) 2:13pm  
Will I c u 2moro? _

_(Sir Pendergast) 2:14pm  
Of course. But I might have to leave early for the punishment Professor Grunkwitz gave me. _

_(Princess) 2:15pm  
Fine bc my dad wnts me 2 go c him 2moro n e way _

_(Sir Pendergast) 2:16pm  
Then I’ll see you tomorrow. _

_(Princess) 2:17pm  
I no ur bein cte but u snd lke ur gonna murder me _

_(Sir Pendergast) 2:18pm  
Oh no, never. Only la petite mort. _

Pen accidentally sent that, immediately flushed, and buried his phone in his pocket and his face in his hands. He pointedly ignored frantic buzzing from his phone for a minute, before finally giving in and pulling it back out.

_(Princess) 2:19pm  
Wht’s tht? _

_(Princess) 2:20pm  
Pen pls I faild Frnch n schl _

_(Princess) 2:21pm  
Pen I googled it_

_(Princess) 2:22pm  
U sht dwn agn ddnt u _

_(Princess) 2:23pm  
Im not gng 2 fuck u 2moro _

_(Princess) 2:24pm  
but like _

_(Princess) 2:24pm  
defntly n the future _

_(Princess) 2:25pm  
Pen rply pls I can c u rd thse_

_(Sir Pendergast) 2:26pm  
I’m sorry for offending you. _

_(Princess) 2:27pm  
Y do u thnk Ill b mad that u wnt me. Its gud 2 b wantd _

_(Princess) 2:28pm  
\+ I lke u 2 I dnt jst make out w/ evry1 who asks > : ( _

_(Sir Pendergast) 2:29pm  
I didn’t say that you did, I just thought it was inappropriate of me to say, and I apologize for any distress I may have caused you _

_(Princess) 2:30pm  
Ive seen dix b4 Pen Im not gonna faint if u dnt treat me like a Victorian ldy _

_(Princess) 2:30pm  
Ur lcky ur cute _

_(Princess) 2:31pm  
Shit prof here gotta go_

Pendergast raised an eyebrow, but smiled to himself all the same. Then he fired up his motorcycle, and rode off into the not-quite sunset. Alright, it was 2:30 in September, it was nowhere near sunset, but Pendergast was a romantic at heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who don't speak French: _la petite morte_ is a term for orgasm. Pen types faster than he thinks (no he doesn't really speak French that well, but unlike Bean he passed it in school)


	12. Hey guys I think Pen might need therapy :/

They dreamed again, that night.

Pendergast was in the heat of battle— _swing, stab, parry, swing_ —when suddenly enemies around him started to be taken down by arrows. “Push back, damn you!” He called against the sound of men and horses crying out and dying. There was a _thud_ behind him—that was new, because most of the _thuds_ of bodies hitting the ground were from the front.

“Need some help?” A familiar— _and feminine_ —voice asked.   
Oh, he could just _hear_ that grin, and unfortunately, he needed to focus elsewhere at the moment.   
“I thought you were a ranged fighter.” He replied. _Swing, stab, duck—_ and then she leaned up against him to push off and spring at her foes.   
“Yeah, well, looks like you’re surrounded by a shitton of enemies.”

“You could have just let me die.” He pointed out. _Swing, swing, parry, stab_.   
Bean laughed behind him, like he’d just said something hilarious instead of the cold truth. “Yeah, right.”   
“They’ll _probably_ execute me after this.” Pendergast was a realist at heart, after all. …sometimes, at least.   
“You’re saying that like you don’t expect us to win.”

“We’re outnumbered a hundred to one—“ and here he ducked on purpose, locking his arms with hers, to give her another boost so she could kick out at her foes. “—and even you can’t fight those odds.”   
He could still hear the grin in her voice. “Maybe, maybe not. After all, you just got backup.”   
Pendergast couldn’t help but grin as well. “Yeah? Could use some of that luck now, princess.”   
“Oh, we’re back to _princess_? I thought I was at least worth Bean.”

 _Swing, parry, parry, push, stab.  
_ “You’re worth everything.” Pendergast said, because he was going to die honest, dammit. It’s not like he never expected to die this way—oh no, he’d been prepared for it for years. He was proud that he’d held out this long, actually… she was just the uncontrolled variable, as always. God, if they made it out of this alive…   
“Don’t get sappy.” She warned.

He laughed. “We’re in the middle of a battle, and _that’s_ what you’re worried about? Don’t worry, princess, I’m not going to start testing out poetry on you.”   
“Jerkface.” She said affectionately. “I’m not a poetry kind of girl anyway. I was just worried about you getting… _distracted_.”   
Oh, good. She knew about how the heat of battle made one’s blood sing, and well, if the blood was already up… truth be told, if they both made it out of this alive, he was going to beg her, on his knees, for the chance to put his head between her thighs. Either one.

 _Swing, stab, parry, stab._ That was in a not-happening future though. He did _not_ have the time or the energy left to be mooning over her _now_.   
“Focus on yourself, Tiabeanie. Wouldn’t want you getting _distracted_ either.” He wasn’t going to arrive at the pearly gates a saint. His armor was stained with blood—even the chainmail, and at this point, he didn’t know _whose_. …if it was his, he would have noticed, right? _Right_?

It was her turn to laugh and— _no, focus, Pendergast_ , _so what if that awful giggle-snort is the cutest thing you’ve ever heard?—_ she said, “You’ve already distracted me. That’s why I’m here.”   
“Do you two need a minute?” The man Pendergast was currently fighting on a sea of corpses asked sarcastically. _Parry, parry, parry, push, stab_. That man was no longer a problem.  
“Hey, whatever happened to your horse, anyway?” Bean asked.

“Trying not to think about that.”   
“Sorry, Pen.”   
“It was just a horse.” It wasn’t, but still. He would be dead soon, just like Carrots, so there was no point to mourning when he now had to focus on keeping her alive. Focus on her.   
“I know it wasn’t—duck!” He ducked. He felt something _whoosh_ over his head—whatever she’d done, he was guessing she needed room for.

“I don’t know how you’re going to get out of this alive.” Pendergast admitted.   
“How _we’re_ going to get out of this alive.” Bean corrected.   
“No. Just you.”   
“So you _really_ are going to just kiss me and-and _die_?” She demanded.

“Yep.”   
“Pen!” She sounded fondly exasperated.   
Parry, stab. “I don’t know what you expected, princess. It’s not like we can fight off the whole army. …they’ll let you live if you surrender.” And what a _life_ , it would be. They both knew what would happen—she’d be formally married off to some king or prince or _whoever_ to secure Dreamland, pop out heir after heir, and die in childbirth, if she hadn’t flung herself from a window before then.

“And what about you?” She demanded.   
He laughed—but this one was a good deal more _bitter_. “Me, princess?”   
“You’re the head of the army.”   
“Oh, yes, _think_ of the execution. I might even get a whole gallows to myself.”   
“Not funny, Pen.”

“I always knew I was going to die on a sword, Bean. And unless you can pull out a lucky trick…”   
Parry, push, stab. Was that some of his blood…? No. …but how had he managed to last the battle without being stabbed? No no no no no. He had to stay alive. If he died now, she’d get hurt and he couldn’t let that happen.   
Wasn’t he supposed to die here?

She was quiet—well, not silent. He could hear her panting, and blocking, and killing, same as him.   
“Fall back! Fall back!” Someone screamed, far away but not too far. Definitely not on the Dreamland side. There was a shadow above them, stretching out over the battlefield.  
Pendergast looked up. Hovering above them was an enormous wave of water. Bean groaned, and he turned around in time to catch her as she fell unconscious. He didn’t have time to see if she was injured, or dying, or fix her or help her. He did have time to say, “Oh. Fuck.” As the wave crashed down upon them.

God he hated the sea.

Bean and Pen awoke in the twenty-first century, gasping and clawing at their throats.   
Pen shuddered uncontrollably. He’d never— _he wouldn’t_ kill someone like that, so mechanically. So many people… and yet he had. He remembered it. He remembered being okay with dying, but not with leaving her unprotected, and that _wave_ …

“You okay?” Thomas muttered blearily. “I can hear you freaking out from over there.”   
“Am I a bad person?” Pen replied.   
Thomas sat up. “What?”   
“Am I a bad person?”

“Okay, that’s what I thought you said. …no, Pen, you’re the best of us.”   
“I killed them.” Pen whispered. “So many people.”   
Thomas sighed. “Describe your nightmare.”   
So he did, the bare-bones essentials at least. Thomas didn’t need to know about the feelings for her.   
“You were a knight, knights kill.” Thomas said blearily.

“I was ready to _die_ there, Thomas.” Pen hissed.   
“Are you?”   
“Am I what?”   
“Are you ready to die? Here? Now?”   
“No. I’m not. And that’s why I’m so scared. I don’t want to feel like that again. Not for years and years, until I’m actually ready to go.” Pen whispered.

Thomas sighed. “Right, we’re not getting back to sleep right now. Let’s go downstairs, have some tea…”   
“Tea isn’t everything.” Pen said, though he followed his brother downstairs.   
Thomas put the kettle on, and leaned against the countertop. “England doesn’t really have tsunamis, you know.”   
“It was a nightmare.”   
“Neither does Wales, last time I checked.” Thomas raised an eyebrow.

That was when Blodeuwedd slowly opened the door and tried to sneak in.   
“Young lady, do you have any idea what time it is?” Pen said, completely unironically.   
Thomas laughed. “Well done, Birdy! Of course, it must be easier without the nanny sleeping in your room.”   
“Fuck off.” Pen said without any heat.

“What are you two doing up? I thought one of you passed out dead drunk, and the other one goes to bed at 8:30 like an old man.”   
“I do not go to bed at 8:30!” Pen protested.   
“He had a nightmare about drowning.” Thomas said as the kettle whistled.

“I wonder if there’s some kind of childhood trauma that might have caused that.” Blodeuwedd huffed. “Like being left in an old abandoned well?”   
“Birdy, that’s something _I’m_ mad at him for. You don’t even remember that.” Pen said as Thomas slid a steaming mug in front of him.   
“Besides, I wonder why you’re sneaking in.” Thomas said, pointedly pouring a mug for himself and not for Blodeuwedd. “It must be… oh, half two?”

“Where’ve you been?” Pen gave her his best disapproving glare, pretending he’d noticed she was gone.   
Blodeuwedd shrugged. “Out.”   
“Out?” Pen repeated.   
Thomas threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, I remember having this conversation with thirteen year old Penny before he hit a growth spurt. Get some new lines, Penny.”

Blodeuwedd made a face at him. “I’m not—I wasn’t _drinking_! I was… there was a boy…”   
“A boy?” Thomas made a face. “I lost all hope for Pen, but you? I thought I wasn’t the only non-straight sibling. Disappointing, Birdy.”   
Pen nudged his shoulder.

“He’s from my class, we went to McDonald’s.” Blodeuwedd muttered.   
Her brothers shared a look.   
“Dump him—if his idea of a nice night out is McDonald’s, he’s not worth it.” Pen recommended, sipping his tea.   
Blodeuwedd wiped at her eyes. “I thought he… shit, now it’s in my eye…”

“Are you wearing make-up?” Thomas asked, squinting at her.   
“Of course I’m wearing make-up, I thought Pen was the blind one!” Blodeuwedd snapped.   
“Half-blind.” Pen muttered, before saying more loudly, “What’d he do? Do we need to defend your honor?”   
“In normal people speak, do we need to beat him up?” Thomas asked softly.

Blodeuwedd sniffled, and Thomas finally poured her a mug of tea from the still hot kettle.   
“I just… I thought he liked me, so I went to McDonald’s to find him making out with Annie from Chemistry. He has a girlfriend. You know why he wanted me there? So he could ask me—as a friend—to write his Bio paper!”   
“He has a girl for every science, I guess.” Thomas mused.   
“Fuck off, Thomas.” Blodeuwedd snapped.

“He sounds like he’s a real dumbass.” Pen noted. “You deserve better, Birdy.”   
“And that’s coming from _him_.” Thomas said.   
Pen glared at his brother. “Maybe we’re _all_ a bit bad with people, Tommy.”   
“That’s right, Pen has his mysterious white-haired beauty. _Pen’s_ the only one with a partner.” Blodeuwedd scoffed.

“He’s kind of like a youth minister.” Thomas leaned over to ruffle his hair. “I assume the appeal is someone making him _not_ that stuffed shirt.”   
“ _Thomas_ , fuck off.” Pen ordered. “…if it makes you feel better Birdy, my morning started off with Bean getting engaged to another guy.”   
“Wow, you couldn’t even last a week.” Birdy said.

Thomas leaned back, an unidentifiable look on his face.   
“She’s no longer engaged to him.” Pen said with that stupid smile.   
“…is this what you got in trouble for?” Thomas asked. “Punching a guy over her?”   
“No, _that_ guy insulted her.”   
“ _Jesus_ , Pen.” His siblings groaned.

“I stand by it.” Pen said, sipping his tea.   
“Now I know why your nightmare involved killing people.” Thomas muttered.   
“Fuck off, Thomas.” Pen and Blodeuwedd said in unison.   
“Seriously though, you should probably find a way to channel that anger, ‘cause I can’t imagine that you seem like a great catch when you flip from squeaky clean ‘forsooth my lady’ to raging blood knight.” Blodeuwedd commented.

“You make those sound like they’re two sides of the same coin.”   
“Fine, you can’t just go from ‘I can and will save puppies from the rain’ to ‘what the fuck did you just say about my girl’. You’re supposed to be better than Thomas.”   
“Excuse you, I would not fight for a woman.” Thomas huffed. “Unlike _some_ people, I don’t like women.”   
“I meant him not flying off the handle.” Blodeuwedd snapped.

“…I carried her in the rain.” Pen muttered, smiling to himself.   
“Fucking _what_ , why don’t we learn these things when they happen?” Blodeuwedd demanded.   
“You _want_ to hear about Pen’s ridiculous romance novel life?” Thomas shot back.   
“Maybe it’ll rub off on us. Maybe one day I’ll go to the countryside and meet a man who teaches me about the magic of Christmas.” Blodeuwedd huffed.

Thomas scoffed. “That’s very _American_ of you.”   
“Better than being literally made for a man I never wanted in the first place, finding someone I like, and then being punished for it.” Blodeuwedd said. “But then again, I suppose that’s not very Welsh of me to say that.”   
Pendergast sipped his tea to hide his smile.

“Could be worse. You could have been Goewin.” Pen said.  
“Or Arianrhod.” Thomas added.   
Blodeuwedd rolled her eyes. “That last one? I already have overbearing brothers who would drag an eight-year-old to my doorstep and try to force me to claim it. Arianrhod at least got a castle.”   
“…Llew Llaw Gyffes wasn’t actually eight, he grew at twice the normal rate—” Pen tried to say, before Blodeuwedd raised a hand to cut him off. “Not now, Pen.”

“Also, pics or the rain thing didn’t happen.” Thomas grinned.   
Pen retrieved his phone from upstairs, scrolled through the messages, and showed Thomas the picture in the groupchat. Then he showed Blodeuwedd, not noticing Thomas’ face.   
“Wait, she’s pretty. What’s she doing with you?” Blodeuwedd asked.

“ _Thanks_ , Birdy.” Pen said.   
“It’s late.” Thomas interrupted. “Everyone should get back to bed.”   
“But we just saw Pen’s girlfriend.” Blodeuwedd protested.   
“ _Now_ , Birdy.” Thomas snapped.

“What’s got you in a twist?” Pen asked.   
“Bed. _Now_.” Thomas insisted.   
Shooting him a look, they went back upstairs. Thomas glanced at Pen’s phone which he’d left behind, then typed in Pen’s password. Of course he knew it. What he didn’t know was what _she_ was doing with his little brother.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at the picture. Pen looked like he was doing his general, ‘I’m trying to be annoyed so that I don’t let feelings in’, but _she…_ what the hell was she doing? Dressed like that, looking up at him like that, Thomas could _almost_ believe she was a different person. That this wasn’t going to blow up terribly, like everything always did.

Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, the Griffiths siblings mention a few female figures from the Mabinogon. Please note, this is a summary of a summary from Wikipedia, but I assume the story beats remain the same. 
> 
> Blodeuwedd, the namesake of Birdy, was originally made from flowers for Llew Llaw Gyffes, since he was cursed to never marry a human woman. Via magic, the flower lady was brought to life, and married Llew Llaw Gyffes. And then he promptly fucked off to do Hero Things, and she kind of decided she didn't want to be his wife, if given the choice. She had an affair, and convinced her lover to kill Llew Llaw Gyffes-- after she found out her husband's weakness. It... didn't really work, but this isn't about him. 
> 
> Goewin was a woman who had to hold King Math's feet, or he'd die. (He needed his feet to be held by a virgin, this detail comes back later.) King Math's nephew started a war to distract him, then helped his brother assault her. Math then married her for her honor, but she still got really fucked over. 
> 
> Lastly, Arianrhod. She was the mother of Llew Llaw Gyffes. After they had been punished, the nephews tried to get back into their uncle's good graces, so they offered their sister to their uncle to be his new footholder. So to test her, Math had her step over a magical stick of virginity testing. She immediately gave birth-- to a magic baby who was thrown into the sea (he was fine don't worry), and to a weird blob. Ashamed, she fled back home. Her brother (the one who started the war) kept the blob, and found out that it was another baby. Specifically, Llew Llaw Gyffes. After a few years, he rolled up to his sister's house, boy in tow, and tried to show her the kid. Arianrhod was not having it. She wanted nothing to do with any of this. She ends up cursing the child several times when her brother will not leave her alone. (That's actually how Blodeuwedd came about, so we went full circle!)


	13. These are problems of their own makings

Bean paced anxiously in her childhood bedroom. Pen had been… brief when they texted back and forth. But the last time she’d heard his voice, it had been in that awful dream. And he’d sounded so _tired_ , even when she was practically begging him to stay on his feet, to not give up. She had woken up afterwards with a pain in her side and a dark bruise… almost like she had been stabbed, sort of. Once upon a time. The water crashing down on them had given her a strange, dark sense of relief.

They must have lived—Luci said she lived to old age, and he mentioned people, children. They’d had children. They’d survived.   
But she still wanted to see him and not her Dad’s _stupid_ PA.

She flopped on her old bed and pulled out her phone.

_(Princess) 5:21pm  
Can we meet up soon? _

There wasn’t even anything to abbreviate.

_(Sir Pendergast) 5:22pm  
Of course. I just have to do my punishment first. _

She glared at her phone.

_(Princess) 5:22pm  
U had the dream 2 rite? _

There was a pause.

_(Sir Pendergast) 5:25pm  
I did. _

_(Princess) 5:26pm  
So u want 2 c me 2 rite??? _

_(Sir Pendergast) 5:27pm  
You know I do. But after work. _

She could hear her father in the hallway. “Stop lookin’ at yer damn phone. She’ll have yer eyes out before ya can blink if ya don’t watch her.”   
Oh, good. The last thing she wanted was some nasty old man giving her the evil eye. She buried her face in her pillow. Stupid honorable Pen.

Her dad opened the door to her room. “Bean, say hi.”   
“Fuck off.” She said into her pillow.   
“So, why do you think we should be left alone in… here?” That was Pen’s voice. She looked up sharply. He was looking at the ceiling like it held the answers to the universe, and she could see the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Good question. You know I trust ya implicitly with my children—it’s more so she can whale on ya butcha can put up a pillow between ya, and she ain’t got anythin’ sharp.” Zog said. “Good luck, Gast. Told ya this was goin’ ta be a punishment.” With that, he left them alone.

She tackled him almost immediately, pinning him to the ground.   
“Hi.” He said softly.   
She brushed his hair out of his face, and pushed his glasses up. “Are you okay?”   
“Better, now.” He admitted. “I… talked it through with my siblings. Are you? Okay, I mean.”

“Yeah.”   
She had sobbed so loudly that Luci had come in and given her the most awkward hug of both their lives, but that didn’t matter now because he was looking up at her with love and _life_ and he was here and he was fine. That’s all that mattered.

“Really?” He smiled up at her. “And here I thought tackling me like this was a one time thing.”   
She made a face at him. “It will be if you keep on like that.”   
“I don’t mind.” He said quickly. “That you’re on top of me.” And he was doing that cute blush again, the one that made her want to check how far it went.

“Oh, don’t you?” She grinned.   
He looked away and muttered something about heads and thighs that made him blush harder, and she kissed his cheek.   
“Cute, but you still work for my dad.” And with that—because she’d seen him, and felt him, and heard him, and she could smell his aftershave and she was _this_ close to leaning down and tasting him, and he was _alive_ —she got up and retreated to the bed.

He sat up. “What?”   
She crossed her arms. “You work for my dad.”   
“I… didn’t know he was your dad.” Pen said. “I would have said, otherwise.”   
She set her jaw. “What’d he say? About me?”

“He says a lot of stuff, he doesn’t mean it.” Pen replied. “Why?”   
Because she had to be mad. Because her father resented her as much as she resented him and she _knew_ what her father said. Because stupid, hot, honorable Pen had been soaking this up since her father first said he had a PA—what was that, five years ago? Right before she left for her mom’s house in Maru for about two years. Because it was better to do this now than later.

“Because you work for my dad!” She huffed. “Everything I say to you, you’ll just go running back and tell him!”   
“I would _never_.” Pen snapped.   
“You wouldn’t _mean_ to.” She snarled. “No, I know you, you wouldn’t _mean_ to—but it’d slip out and I’d have more problems with my dad, and more problems with you. Piss off.”

“I’m _pretty sure_ he locked us in here.” Pen said. “The whole point is that I can’t run away from you.”   
She cursed her stupid heart for beating faster at that. Stupid stupid stupid. Right. Time to go. She crossed to the window, and opened it. Ah, yes, the old tree was still there.   
“You don’t want to do that.” Pen said, behind her.   
“I’m pretty sure I do. _Narc_.” She snapped.

…the tree looked somewhat different.   
“Why don’t I want to do it?” She asked.   
“Because last week there may have been an email sent having it pruned.”   
“I’ll take my chances.” She swung a leg over the windowsill, then carefully walked out onto the roof of the garage. That’s when she felt it start to shift under her.

“The tree was pruned because it was compromising the structural integrity of the garage.” Pen said, half out the window himself. He was doing that thing he did, where he tried to disguise his feelings by acting disgruntled and annoyed.   
“I’ll take my chances, narc.”   
“Not my name. Why do you keep calling me that?” He asked, his eyes shifting to her feet quickly.

She started moving towards the tree, if she could just get to it—the roof collapsed under her feet. She would have gone down with it if stupid, hot, honorable Pen hadn’t reached out at the last second and grabbed her, pulling her back in the room. Great, now she was stuck with him.

“You can let go now.” She huffed, because she was still mad at him. He should have said who his employer was from the start so she’d have known not to be taken in by his stupid hot face.   
“Don’t do that to me again.” He said. “You are the most… you’re the luckiest, most daring person I know.”   
“BEEEEEAAANN!” Zog yelled from below. Oh good, he knew about the garage.  
“What do you care? You’re probably just spying on me for my dad.” She hissed as she pulled away.

“I was just as surprised as you, or I would have given you a heads-up!” He protested. “I’m not— _Tiabeanie_ , do you really think everything over the past week has been _contrived_?”   
“I don’t know.” She said frostily. “I’m not sure I know anything about you, narc. Is your name really even Pendergast?”   
“Why would I lie about that?” He asked flatly. “If I was going to lie, I’d start with my name, and make it… Bill or George, or any damn thing but _Pendergast_.”

“You still never told me you worked for my dad!”   
“You never told me your surname, and at this point, I thought it was too late to ask!” Pen hissed. “I was just going to find out at the altar!” He blushed again, apparently wishing he could catch up with his mouth once again.   
“No no no, you don’t get to win me over with your cute, innocent act.” She growled. “Do you have anything that will work as a screwdriver?”   
“Why?” He asked warily.

“So I can take the hinges off the damn door.”   
“Why not just pick the lock?” He asked.   
She scoffed. “Contrary to what my father has told you, I don’t know how to pick locks.” She did, but Zog had changed the locks since last time she’d been home. Besides, Pen and Zog didn’t need to know she could pick locks.

“…got a bobby pin anywhere?” He looked around like he expected one to magically appear.   
“What.” She said flatly.   
“A bobby pin.”   
“No, I got that, but you know how to lockpick?”   
“Thomas taught me when I was eight.” He said off-handedly. He fished around his pockets before finding a paper clip, which he bent.   
“Do you have a nail file?”   
“Uh, here.” She grabbed an old one off of her vanity. Oona had given that to her when she was twelve, before she and Zog had split up.

He nodded once as thanks, and kneeled in front of the door. “So, for whatever reason, you think I’m a master liar and actor, despite having seen me play NPCs in DnD. …speaking of which, will you be there on Friday?”   
“I’ll think about it. …I need to return Miri’s boots anyway.” Bean muttered.   
Pen shot her a warm, hopeful smile, and she glared at him. “But only because I like playing. I don’t like _you_ , narc.”

“It seems I overestimated our relationship. Sorry.”   
He was getting overly formal again. Didn’t he know it wasn’t bad to be… right. Maybe he was actually right about it. For once. It was better this way.   
There was a _click_ , and Pendergast stood. The door swung open.

“Not bad.” She said.   
“I try.” He replied, before he left the room.   
She shouldn’t feel bad. She didn’t! She was the one pushing him away. This was… this was good. Right?

“Where do ya think yer goin’?” Zog demanded. She left her room to see Pen downstairs.   
“She objected to my presence.” Pen shrugged. “I don’t think she’s going to listen to anything I have to say. I’ll take any other punishment, if you want—but she hasn’t done anything.”   
“She’s always done somethin’.” Zog muttered. “She destroyed my garage! She got engaged to someone she doesn’t know yesterday! I asked!”

“That was a joke!” Bean hissed from the landing.   
Pen looked up at her, then back at Zog. “Perhaps Sven Einarsson would be a better fit for this job then.”   
“Don’t get cute with me, Gast.” Zog said. “You can’t just go punchin’ people to defend yer girlfriend.”   
“She’s not my girlfriend.” Pen said. “She hates me.”

“Jesus Christ, that’s almost _worse_ , but it seems the universe has punished ya enough.” Zog said.   
Pen nodded once, and left.   
Bean’s mouth dropped open. “That is _so_ unfair! If I had done anything like punch Merkimer, you wouldn’t let me leave the house for a month! You’d ship me off to a convent!”

“Not a convent.” Zog said. “I’d let ya go to jail.”   
“But not him?” She snapped. And she couldn’t hate _Pen_ , stupid, hot Pen. But she could hate _Pendergast_ , this great fucking PA that was somehow better than any child Zog had raised. _Pendergast_ , who could get away with anything. …couldn’t she?   
“He doesn’t pull shit like this all the time. He didn’t pick the lock.”   
“He _did_ pick the lock, he’d tell you himself!”

Zog glared at her. “Beanie, you’ve been handed _ev’rythin’_ on a silver platter. Yer a brat. That kid? Show him a little love, and he’ll follow ya into hell and back.”   
She scoffed, because it was about the only noise she could make. Her throat had closed—she _knew_ that, but she didn’t want a man loyal to _her father_.

“When’s the last time you showed me love?!” Her voice cracked when she finally pushed past it to speak.   
Zog’s face fell. “Aw, Beanie…”   
She ran down the stairs and out the door, right into someone tall and muscular. Pen sighed, and wiped away one of her tears.

“Fuck you.” She spat.   
“I know.” He said softly.   
“ _Fuck you fuck you fuck you_.”   
“I know that too. Sorry I overheard all that.”   
“I don’t care—why do you get to get away with everything?!” She demanded. “Why does he like you better than me?”

“This isn’t the place for that. …do you want a ride?”   
And that was how she ended up on the back of his rusty, old motorcycle with his spare helmet, hanging onto him for dear life. And that was how they ended up at the municipal park as the sun was beginning to set.


	14. Yes I DID write a bad song thank you for asking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Late Valentine's Day y'all. I got addicted to Nanogram so I didn't post this yesterday.

“I hate you.” She said, wiping at her eyes as they walked into the park.   
“Okay.” He said. “I don’t hate you.”   
Bean glared at him. “Why does he like you so much?”

“I keep my head down, and I like to think I do good work.” Pen pushed his glasses up. “At the end of the day, I’m not his kid. He doesn’t have _messes_ with me. Oh, I’m sure I’m fun to pull out at parties—look at how much I can get him to do—but at the end of the day, I go home.”   
“He tried to _punish_ you with me.” Bean said.   
Pen bit his lip, and it seemed like he was trying to hide a smile. “Well, he also said he hoped I’d fall in love with you instead of whoever he thought my ‘girlfriend’ was.”

“When?”   
“Yesterday. In his office. Look, he doesn’t know how to punish me, because I’m _not_ his kid. Do you know what happened when I went home? My mother ripped into me for thirty minutes straight, and now I’m on dish duty for the next two months.” Pen sat down under a tree.   
“You shouldn’t have done that.” Bean glared at him. “I’m still mad at you for that too.”

Pen leaned back against the tree. “I didn’t know you were that fond of Merkimer. In which case, I _am_ sorry that I attempted to discourage wanted advances.”

She sat down next to him. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”   
“Well, you hate me. I can’t imagine you’d be concerned for _my_ welfare.” Pen remarked drily.   
Bean glared at him. “You can be _such_ an asshole.”   
Pen looked at her. “It’s a talent.”

“ _Jerk_.”   
“You hate me, I know.” He sighed. “I don’t even—fine. Fine. Hate me. It won’t change anything. I’m still a _narcotics officer_ —”   
“Just say narc. Narcotics officer doesn’t make any fucking sense.”   
“Neither does calling me one!”   
“You’re a snitch.” She said stiffly. “And you’re going to snitch on me to my dad.”

“Here, in the middle of this park.” Pen deadpanned, crossing his arms. “My God, you’ve caught me. It wasn’t that I thought you were hot, and sweet, and I liked your sense of humor. No, I was wearing a wire for your father the whole time. You do realize I have better things to do than follow you around and collect information for a man who can get his own? I also have better things to do than be insulted multiple times, and I’m half-convinced to give you a ride home and then tell _you_ to fuck off.”

“Wh… hey! I’m the one that’s supposed to be mad!”   
“Why are _either_ of us supposed to be mad?!” Pen demanded. “Why can’t we just be happy and enjoy each other’s company? Why can’t we just go back to earlier when you were happy I was alive?”   
She swallowed, and looked at her hands. “Because this has never happened before.”   
“I’m aware that I’m your father’s first personal assistant.”

Bean glared at him, before it softened. “No! I-I… my Dad never had time for me. My Mom wants me to be someone on her terms. Everyone I’ve ever loved has betrayed me in some way, and I thought… I thought it would be easier if I pushed you away now. Now that I had a reason, I mean.”   
He sighed. “May I wrap an arm around you?”   
She snuggled up to him. “Idiot.” She said fondly.

He wrapped the arm around her. “Look, I’m not going to betray you. I say that with the utmost certainty because it’s _true_. I would sooner cut off my hand than be cruel to you.”   
“You still work for my father.”   
“Bean, I don’t _dream_ about your father. I get _paid_ by your father, but it’s—you will always come first for me.” He kissed the top of her head gently. “There, I said it, hopefully neither of us will have any traumatizing dreams.”

“…you handled that really well.”   
“I compartmentalize.” He said, almost cheerfully. “No matter the situation, I tend to deal with it emotionally _after_ the fact.”   
“Convenient.”   
“…well, I will admit my temper can get… bad. And I still don’t want you to willingly go through the roof of your father’s garage.” Pen admitted.   
She snorted. “ _There_ we go.”

“I would never raise a hand to you, though.” He said firmly. “…truth be told, I was trying very hard not to be angry at all when you had your baseless accusations earlier.”   
“So in other words, you _don’t_ compartmentalize.” She laughed.   
He shrugged. “No. Maybe not.”

“You’re a dork.”   
“Your dork, princess.” That sounded almost automatic, even if there was still affection in his tone.   
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “It would be better if I stayed mad at you and didn’t let myself catch feelings.”   
“It wouldn’t.” He said, a little too quickly. “I mean… you don’t have to… date me, or do anything romantic with me. But I like having you in my life. And I’d be sad to see you go. Besides, we need someone for DnD.”

“Are you trying to make me stay with _DnD_?” Bean laughed.   
“Is it working?” Pen asked.   
She smiled, and wiped at her eyes. “…no, but that’s because I already made up my mind. …and the dreams won’t stop anyway, I guess I’m just stuck with you for now.”   
His face lit up. “I’ll take it.”

“Jesus, Pen, that’s not some grand declaration of love.”   
“I’ll still take it.” He said softly. “I’ll understand if you don’t want me, even with the dreams. I’ll understand if there’s someone else, but I hope we can at least be friends. I love having you in my life.”   
“ _Sappy_. I said I’d stay.” Bean snuggled into his shoulder.   
“I know, I’m just trying to tell you how much you mean to me.” Pen said quietly.

She jerked back. “It’s only been a week—less than a week! You can’t _love_ me yet.”   
He shrugged, staring at her with those sad eyes. “The dreams make it feel longer.”   
She stood. “No, no… that’s… you can’t.”   
“Why?” He blinked, and the sadness she thought she’d seen was gone, replaced with his cool indifference. She hated that face—when he was trying not to let his feelings show, when he pretended there was nothing wrong. He’d made that face after he thought she was engaged to Sven. He’d made that face after… wait, no, that wasn’t her Pen she was remembering.

She sank to her knees, clutching at her head.   
“Bean? Are you okay?” Pen asked. His mouth didn’t say _Bean_ , it said _Princess_.  
She looked at him, and it looked like his face was _shifting_ between glasses and an eyepatch. He was holding her shoulders, and when she looked at his hands, they were shifting too—motorcycle gloves to gauntlets and back again. A regular, Primark jacket became armor.

“Princess? Look at me.” Pen—no, that was Sir Pendergast now, holding her and visibly panicking.   
“I’m scared.” Bean admitted, trying not to panic. “Not just about you, but about _this_. Tell me you can see it too!”   
“I can see it. Your leggings keep… turning blue.” Sir Pendergast said.   
“Why are you scared of me?” Pen asked a second later.

“Because it’s only been a week, and I’ve never been in love before and if this is what it’s like after a _week_ …” She trailed off, trying to take a gulp of air. This was too intense.   
Sir Pendergast frowned. “A week since what? I’ve known you for years, Princess.”   
“Not you! Other you!” Bean said. “Wh… what do you mean, years?”

Sir Pendergast brushed her hair out of her face gently. “I mean, I’ve known you for years, ever since I first came to court. I was 17, you were 14. And I swore to protect you then, as I do now.” He pulled her into a gentle hug, and gradually, beneath her finger tips, chain mail faded back to cracked and softened leather.

“Still scared of me?” Pen asked softly, running a hand through her hair.   
She held on tighter. “No, I’ve got more to be scared of now.”   
“I’ll always protect you.” Pen said. “I’ll do whatever I can.”   
Bean shivered, and for a moment, leather turned to chain mail. “I know. Um… can you not… _sound_ like him?”

“What?” Pen asked, caught off-guard.   
“The other one. From the dreams.” Bean clarified.   
“ _What_? I mean… they’re really real? It’s not just… I don’t know, you looked like you were glitching through the Matrix or something.” Pen said. “…how do I not sound like him anyway?”   
Bean shrugged. “I don’t know. Keep talking about the Matrix or whatever.”   
“…so regarding our paper together, do you have any idea on the form of media you want us to research?” Pen asked.

There was nothing more emotionally grounding than academia that you didn’t have to do immediately. “I… this is going to sound really bad, but there’s this old song my dad sometimes plays in his office that’s supposed to date back to the 1200s.” Bean began.   
Pen shut his eyes. “Oh my God…”   
“And irony aside, it’s a good song.” Bean continued.   
“Oh my _God._ ”

“So that’s why I think we should do ‘The Princess and the Knight’.”   
Pen began laughing. “Oh-oh my _God_ …” He stuttered out in between laughs. “You can’t be serious.”   
She pulled his glasses off his face and put them on. “I’m dead serious… _whoa_ , you’re blind.”

“Half-blind.” Pen corrected. “Try shutting one eye.”   
Bean shut her right eye. “I don’t get it, this one is crystal clear.”   
Pen shrugged. “Left eye has 20-20 vision, I guess. Try the other one, it’s the real reason I need glasses.”   
She did. “ _Whoa_ , you’re blind.” She repeated.   
“You’re not going to distract me from the fact that you… you _do_ know how that song goes, right?” Pendergast grabbed his glasses back, and gently put them onto his own face.

“It’s catchy.” Bean replied.   
“The only thing we need now is for it to actually _be_ about us.” Pen pointed out, before glancing up. It was getting dark, and had been for the last few minutes. “Can I give you a ride?”   
Bean smirked at him. “Oh, sure, Pen. Anytime you want. I’d love to see what’s under those jeans of yours.”   
“Thank you I—” His brain caught up with what she said and he turned red.   
“Let’s go.” He said, muffled by his hands after he brought them up to cover his face.   
Bean laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the song they're referring to. It is _very_ on the nose, except for the part where they have sex and Pen doesn't immediately die of shame, and Pen also kills Guysbert and marries her instead. THAT would be an interesting fic though but like   
> very OOC. 
> 
> I can't NOT write a blushy boi. 
> 
> Refrain:   
> The princess and the knight,   
> a love so bright,   
> the stars will shine thereafter.   
> The knight and princess,   
> loved all the best,   
> but who now hears their laughter?  
> Our story begins with a lady fair,   
> a princess with snow white hair,   
> and the love she had,   
> for a knight so bold,   
> where e’er now they grow cold.   
> The princess they say  
>  was to wed that day,   
> to a prince of a land so far ‘way.   
> The knight begged her to run with him,   
> ‘ere fate let her light dim.   
> (Refrain)  
> The princess she wouldn’t run away,   
> though it made her heart crack in two,   
> She said to him, “you know that I love you,   
> but that all things must end”   
> He kissed her hand,   
> He kissed her face,   
> When morning came they found her lace,   
> upon the floor,   
> the knight out the door,   
> the princess crying by the window.   
> (Refrain)   
> She walked down the aisle, looking around.  
> Where was he? He couldn’t be found.  
> She took the hand of the prince,   
> e’en though she suffered and winced.   
> When at last her knight returned.   
> He struck the prince right through the heart,   
> in that holy place.   
> He kissed her face,   
> he kissed her hand,   
> Blood dripping off his wedding band.   
> (Refrain)   
> Some say the king killed them,   
> some say they lived,   
> though none asked what they’d become.   
> More others say they’ve seen two ghosts,   
> a knight without a host,   
> and a princess in a wedding dress.   
> Who knows now if they’re happy?   
> Who knows now if they’re scorned?   
> Maybe perhaps they’re waiting  
> for a chance to be reborn.


	15. It's a matter of PENetration, princess

The dreams were getting more frequent.

Bean didn’t know if that night’s dream was because of _the incident_ earlier that day or what, but she still dreamed. That night, after she drifted off to sleep, she dreamed that she opened her eyes, the splitting pain back in her side.

She was sitting, propped up against a cave wall—she knew these caves. These were on the beach underneath the castle of Dreamland. Pendergast had his shirt off, she realized with a jolt, and was tending a fire. There were several injuries on him that looked like they’d been… _closed_ somehow. Injuries she was pretty sure weren’t there before.

He glanced at her, then his face flooded with relief. “You’re awake.”  
“Yeah… what happened?” She tried to sit up further.  
He moved next to her, and helped her adjust. “Well, I legitimately don’t know who won, or if they’re even looking for us. You’ve been in and out of consciousness for about thirty minutes now.”  
“What happened to your shirt?” She grinned.  
Pendergast raised an eyebrow. “Currently, it’s in strips around your ribs, trying to keep your blood in.”

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that.” She said.  
“I really, truly did.” He replied. “…does your chest hurt?”  
“Uh… the injury here hurts, but…” Bean shrugged, and it felt like her chest was in a vice. “Shit.” She hissed.  
Pendergast sighed. “Sorry about that.”  
“Not your fault.”

“Kind of is. I was sure I heard a _crack_ when I was pumping water out of your lungs.” He said sheepishly.  
“You know how to do that?” She asked, genuinely interested.  
“Have to, we leave in a seaside kingdom. It’s… I’m trained in most battlefield medicine, since I don’t trust Sorcerio near my men.”  
“Are all the knights trained?” Bean asked. “I thought that generally, the idea was to amputate before something got infected.”  
“I remember you saying that to your dragon summoner friend.” Pendergast raised an eyebrow. “You looked like you were having fun, so I didn’t want to interrupt and point out that it’d just cause a larger wound to treat. For the record, that’s not how I lost the eye.”

Bean flushed. “I didn’t say it was.”  
He grinned at her. “ _Really_?”  
“Really.” She said.  
He chuckled. “Alright, I believe you. How’s your wound?”

She looked at the bandage. Blood was beginning to soak through. “Uh…”  
“I was afraid of that…” He muttered. “It’ll need to be closed.”  
“How?” She asked suspiciously.  
“Well, given what we have on hand, it’s a matter of penetration.” Pendergast said, dead serious.

“…penetration?”  
“Yes. I wanted you to be awake to be sure that I had your consent, but that means it’ll hurt.” Pendergast said, still straight-faced.  
“So I just lie back and think of Dreamland?” Bean raised an eyebrow.  
He rolled his eye. “No, I need you to sit up, and I’ll give you something to bite down on.”  
“Kinky.” She commented.

“What?” Pendergast asked, caught off guard. “No, I…” He walked back through the conversation, and slowly turned red. “I did _not_ mean it like that.”  
“I mean, if it’s a question of _penetration_ , I’m down for it.” Bean smirked.  
“I meant _cauterizing_ the wound.” Pendergast tapped his own fresh wounds gently.

“Why wouldn’t I want you to do a life-saving thing?” Bean frowned as Pendergast began to heat a dagger in the fire.  
“It’s more that I didn’t want to do it while you were unconscious, it might hurt you further.” Pendergast said, pointedly looking at the fire instead of her. “And it’s better to ask when you’re awake. It’s painful, like I said. And it’ll leave a permanent scar.”

“I get a badass scar like yours out of it? Sign me up!” Bean said enthusiastically.  
Pendergast made a weird snort sound, and Bean realized he was choking back a laugh.  
“Some women would be worried about the effect that _having_ a cool scar would have.”  
“Uh, yeah? Not dying?”

“I’m just saying it might be a bit hard to find another prince, Tiabeanie.” He didn’t sound like he was upset about that. If anything, he sounded cheerful.  
“Yeah, but they’ll probably hear about the Bentwood brothers first, so it’s not like I have suitors lining up to marry me. C’mon, Pen. Stick the red hot end in me.”  
He sighed, and handed her a leather strap that used to be on his armor, probably holding it together. “ _Bite_.”

“You don’t need to tell me.” She smirked again. She took it though, as he started undoing the strips around her ribs. She helped tie her shirt up out of the way, but not _too_ out of the way, lest he die.  
He gently took the dagger from the fire. “Don’t focus on what I’m doing… hey, did you wonder where my armor is?”  
She nodded. Since he was bringing it up…  
“Most of it is in pieces at the bottom of the ocean.” Pendergast said conversationally, before white hot pain coursed through her side.

“My brigantine, pauldrons, helmet… we both would have drowned if I kept them on.” Pendergast continued gently. “I was worried you _had_. You’re good, I think that was the only big problem, the salt water should have washed out the rest. I’m going to redo the bandages though, okay?”  
“Why?” Bean asked, taking the leather strap out of her mouth and wincing. She’d bitten clean through it.

Pendergast didn’t seem to mind. “To support your ribs. You don’t want to have to rebreak it later so it heals cleanly, trust me. Besides, it’s not like I’m getting my shirt back.”  
“So you’re just… going to be shirtless?” Bean said.  
“Unless you have another idea.” Pendergast agreed. “What’s the matter, princess? Just a few minutes ago, you were saying that I don’t need to tell you to bite, and were saying you were down for _penetration_. My clothing—or lack of it— is nothing compared to that.”

“Hey, I thought I was the confident one. What am I supposed to do if you start flirting back?”  
“Fl-flirting? No, I was just stating a fact.”  
“You were kind of flirting.” Bean said. “…and I guess neither of us are dead, so I’m going to need that kiss back.”  
“I can’t give… oh.” Pendergast said.  
She grinned at him triumphantly.

He cleared his throat. “When you’re better. Healed, I mean. You’re always amazing…”  
“Pen.” She said. “I know what you mean, you big dork.”  
“Your dork, princess.”

In the twenty-first century, Bean bolted upright in bed. Her side hurt again with the white hot pain, like she’d just been burned. She pulled up her sleep shirt gently just to reassure herself that the scar wasn’t there… and it was. It was red and angry, and there was absolutely no way this was possible.

She climbed out of bed, and ran into the common room. Luci, as usual, wasn’t actually in his room.  
He was on Elfo’s laptop, typing with only his index fingers.  
“What the hell is this?!” Bean demanded, pointing to her scar.  
Luci squinted. “Uh… Dreamland Secondary? Class of—”  
“Not the shirt, dumbass!” Bean hissed. “The _scar_!”  
“Oh, that. Well Pendergast cauterized—”  
“I _know_! But that wasn’t me! So why…?!” She trailed off, letting the shirt fall.

“But it _was_ you.”  
“No it wasn’t! That-that was Tiabeanie the First!” Bean said. “Didn’t she become Queen of Maru or something?!” Her Dad had tried to tell her what an icon Tiabeanie the First had been. Bean _truly_ did not care about whether or not she raised her kids alone like Beebaw, or whether or not the current Queen of the country of Maru was named after her.

“Oh, yeah, that.” Luci said. “I told you, you’re her though.” He opened a new tab and slowly typed in Tiabeanie the First, before Bean grabbed the laptop and tapped on the Wikipedia link herself. There weren’t _too_ many written sources, but there were multiple visual sources. The image Wikipedia chose to show her was a bit later in life, an oil painting where she was sitting on a throne and talking to someone out of the frame.

“I don’t want to go back to Maru!” Bean hissed.  
“Back?” Luci asked, caught off guard.  
“And I definitely don’t want to become Queen!” Bean continued. “And I don’t want Pen to _die_!”  
“ _What_?” Luci said.

Bean clicked on the ‘Controversy over husband’ subtab.  
‘There is no man in any source specifically referred to as her husband, nor is there any marriage record in Dreamland or Maru besides the marriage certificate regarding Guysbert of Bentwood, who died before any of Tiabeanie’s children were conceived. It has been suggested that she carried on an affair, or that the father of the children was an open secret, since none of the texts refer to any partner as such, despite referring to other members of the court. DNA analysis from Empress Emma and Princess Adelaide’s bodies imply that they had the same father, and it is possible that Prince Arthur had the same father as well. However, since his body has never been found, it is impossible to tell. It is possible that she had a permanent lover, but given the age difference between Arthur and Emma, Alfred and Adelaide, something may have happened to them. Adding onto this is the fact that the only official portrait of Arthur as an adult portrays him as looking very similar to Sir Pendergast ap Arwel ap Maredudd of Dreamland, possibly to accentuate Arthur’s own prowess as a knight.’

“…you know, Arthur looks like Pendergast in the portrait because he looked like Pendergast in real life. Like, sure, he had your nose and stuff, but that guy’s genes are _strong_.” Luci commented. “…sorry, by the way.”  
“What are you sorry about?” Bean demanded. “You didn’t kill Pen, did you?”  
“No, but I may have helped _accidentally_ write him out of history. I mean, I thought it was obvious. _Everyone_ thought it was obvious, but I guess not…” Luci bit his lip.  
“You mean to tell me 1200s Pendergast was okay with his children being—with us not being married? What happened to him?” Bean demanded.

“Okay, first of all, you two _were_ married, just not… officially.” Luci winced. “Never knew _that_ would come back to bite you in the ass either, but here we are. He followed you to Maru, by the way. So did Elfo and me. …I mean, Maru came later, but that’s another story.”

“Another st… Luci! I am _not_ her!” Bean gestured at the laptop. “I didn’t get injured in some great battle, and I wasn’t swept away by the ocean! I…. why do I have the scar?”  
Luci glanced at her t-shirt. “Because you are her, and you know it. Oh, different time, but everything’s clicking back together.”  
“We had different experiences! We’re _different_ people—she didn’t know what a-a… any of this! I live in the _twenty-first_ century. Experiences make the person!”  
Luci shrugged. “Well, you’re getting her experiences, aren’t you? More and more will start leaking through.”

“What if—okay, the article said she had children.” Bean tapped her arm where the implant was. “Will I get… miracle-pregnant?!”  
“You mean to say you and Pendergast _haven’t_ done the nasty?” Luci asked, scandalized.  
Bean started hitting him with a throw pillow. “Not what I meant!”

Luci raised an arm to defend himself. “Okay, okay! I don’t know! I know that scar was important for what came next, but… that shouldn’t _matter_ now. I don’t actually know anything, it’s not like you were actually _there_ in her body in the dreams… right? Like as a passenger?”  
That was when Bean realized her hair was wet. And the last time she’d showered had been that morning. “I…”

“You’re not laughing. Why are you not laughing?” Luci demanded.  
“I can’t get pregnant!” Bean hissed back.  
“Forget that! Bean was supposed to get pregnant at a certain point—what if your stupid implant fucks _that_ up?!” Luci shot back. “Oh my God, I hate weird time shit… are you and the other Bean… interchangeable? Literally the same person?”

“I… no.” Bean said hesitantly. “I don’t think so.”  
Luci began to pace. “What the hell were they trying to teach you with the scar…?”  
“Luci, I didn’t get… the wound that _caused_ Pen to have to cauterize it.” Bean said. “And my ribs are fine.”  
“Ribs…? Oh, right, he cracked one of her ribs… never did find out how.” Luci muttered to himself. “…but he has the _eye_ it’s not about _scars_ …”

Bean checked her scar again. “Uh, Luci?”  
“What?” Luci snapped. “I’m thinking…” He trailed off, upon seeing Bean lifting her shirt again. The scar wasn’t completely gone, but where it had been red, and angry, and _very_ permanent, it was now new pink skin. Like it had never happened, and would heal shortly.  
“…someone’s fucking with us.” Luci said slowly. “And when I find out who, I’m going to be _pissed_.”


	16. What is Luci's major? Mystery

Magnhild and Merkimer were people-watching.   
Specifically, they were watching Bean and Pen talk before the seminar paired with the lecture earlier that week. There wasn’t much to give away that they were dating, but that didn’t seem to matter. There was enough for Merkimer to comment on it.

“I just don’t know what she sees in him!” Merkimer seethed.   
Magnhild sipped her latte. “I’m guessing as opposed to you specifically, or in general?”   
“In gene—what do you mean, me specifically?”   
“Dick size.” Magnhild said.

Merkimer sputtered. “I… what… I have an enormous penis!”   
“Mm. Hypothesis confirmed—you have a smaller than average dick, and you’re self-conscious.” Magnhild looked up at him. “I don’t actually know how big his dick is.”   
“I… then he could…”   
“Oh, he’s not compensating for that. He compensates for other stuff, but he doesn’t compensate like you do.” Magnhild commented. “I just meant in general—larger than yours.”

“ _Why_ are we talking about this?” Merkimer demanded.   
Magnhild shrugged. “You were about to say something stupid about how she belongs with anyone but him—like you—and then I bet you were going to go over there and _repeat_ the something stupid where they could hear you, and get yourself punched again. Do you want the general reasons?”

“Enlighten me.” Merkimer said, trying not to sulk. That had been more or less what he was going to do, yes.   
Magnhild shrugged. “First of all, he’s a solid 8 out of 10 at _least_. I’d bang him. Half the girls in class would bang him, just on face alone.”   
“I thought you were a lesbian.” Merkimer gasped.

Magnhild blinked. “What gave you that idea?”   
“When I asked you out, you laughed until you cried.”   
Magnhild cackled a bit to herself. “Yeah. I lean more towards girls—girls are hot-- but nah, I’d bang him. He looks like he’d be fun to tie down.”

“I’m straight, by the way.” Merkimer said a little too loudly.   
Magnhild sipped her coffee. “Yeah, but you’re thinking about it.”   
“Only because you put the idea in my head!”   
“Whatever. Anyway, he’s hot, she’s hot, but what really clinches it is that he looks at her like she’s a goddess or something. He’s completely, 100 percent dedicated to her. There will never be anyone else. That kind of intensity scares the shit out of me but I guess she’s into it, as are other people in class.”

“Wh… I can be intense!” Merkimer said.   
Magnhild glanced at him. “I’m not talking about leaving upset voicemails about _why won’t she call you back_? This man’s love burns like the sun.”   
“I didn’t know you were a poet.” Merkimer snarked, though he could see what she meant.   
“I’m not. Doesn’t mean I don’t have eyes, or that I’m so in love with my own crotch that I think I’m a better option than _that_.” Magnhild gestured towards Bean and Pen.

“I feel like this conversation has been more about me than them.” Merkimer said.   
“Oh, yeah.” Magnhild said. “I thought that it was obvious I was just insulting you to your face when I mentioned your dick size, but I guess not.”   
“ _Why_ are you so mean to nice men like me?” Merkimer whined.   
“Someone has to be.” Magnhild said. “If it helps, Rosemary likes you.”

“Who the hell is Rosemary?” Merkimer demanded.   
“Exactly—that’s why she likes you.” Magnhild paused to sip her coffee. “She’s my partner for this History/English thing. Spends a lot of time staring at you and sighing and doodling in her notebook.”   
“Can you give me her number?”   
“No, because you can’t just text her. That will kill her. I’ll point her out and you can talk to her.” Magnhild said. “And if by some _miraculous, divine intervention_ , she likes you after hearing you open your mouth… if you break that girl’s heart so you can _pretend_ to be a love-‘em-and-leave-‘em type, I’ll snap your dick off with liquid nitrogen.”

“Jesus, that’s scarier than Pendergast.” Merkimer said, eyes wide.   
“You’re welcome to take your chances and swagger over there and hit on Bean.” Magnhild said. “But I doubt he’ll be the one to punch you this time.”   
“She likes me.”   
“She doesn’t.”

“I think I would know.” Merkimer said.   
Magnhild choked on her coffee. “I mean, if you want, go over there and interrupt them. I’ll film it on my phone and treasure it forever.”   
“You’re _very_ mean.”   
“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

They were interrupted by Luci shoving past them. “Hel _lo_ , lovebirds. Celebrating your weekiversary?” He asked Bean and Pen.   
Magnhild scrambled for her phone.   
“Luci, what are you doing here? You’re not in this class!” Bean hissed. “You’re not even in History or English!”   
“Correct—I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to be ‘learning’ at this ‘school’.” Luci said. “I just woke up, and checked your schedule and followed you here.”

“Uh…” Pen said slowly, as Bean buried her face in her hands. “You should probably… check your own schedule…?”   
“Irrelevant.” Luci said, staring at Bean. “I communed with the Devil last night after our conversation.”   
Everyone was openly staring now.

“I’m going to put frogs in your bed if you don’t _piss off_.” Bean hissed at him.   
“It wasn’t him with the…” Luci tapped his midriff. “ _But_ he did send me here to make sure nothing goes… wrong… and you inadvertently destroy the world.”   
“Luci, I have _class_. You sound _insane_.” Bean pleaded.

“Your professor’s running late anyway. Car trouble.” Luci said dismissively. “And Addie’s not here for me to babysit, so naturally, I fall back to my first job—chaperoning you.”   
“I don’t _need_ a chaperone!” Bean ground out.   
“Sure you do. One week and you’re already pregnant.”

“ _What_?!” Pen said, saying what everyone else was thinking.   
“No no no no no, I’m not pregnant!” Bean said hurriedly. “That would be _insane_ , Luci. Just like the rest of this conversation!”   
“…okay, maybe you’re not, but the principle still applies.” Luci pointed out. “Who knows what you and Pendergast will get up to if left to your own devices? …well, technically, I do. Because it already happened.”

“Luci, why are you really here?” Bean ground out.   
Luci handed her a silver business card. “Honestly? To fuck with you. And to deliver this. They’ve got answers.”   
“Who’s _they_?” Bean demanded.   
“I already have my answers, I don’t need yours.” Luci said cheerfully. “Well, I’m off to go see what Elfo’s up to during daylight hours when you’re with your boyfriend. Happy anniversary.”   
“We technically met last Thursday. It’s Wednesday.” Pen pointed out.

Luci gave a very human grin. “Wow, not even a whole week… anyway, fun fact for all you history nerds; the Battle of Dreamland Fair was 806 years ago today.”   
Several people pulled out their phones to check this as Luci walked away cheerfully.   
“He’s not wrong.” Magnhild finally said.   
“What’s the significance of…?” Merkimer squinted at his phone. “Bean, your friend is very weird.”

Magnhild looked at her own phone, then up at Bean and Pendergast. “Well, it makes more sense if it’s all an elaborate history joke instead of… well, anything else.”   
“Yeah, it’s all a joke.” Bean laughed nervously. “My flatmate’s such a joker. He’ll… seek me out, right before class, and do this…”

That was when Sorcerio showed up. “Sorry about that, class. Car trouble.”   
“…did your flatmate sabotage his car?” Pen muttered to Bean as they filed in.   
“No!” She said quickly… a bit too quickly. “Okay, maybe.”

After class with Sorcerio—whereupon they’d called dibs on ‘ _The Princess and the Knight’_ , Bean and Pen went to their respective classes, and then met back up in front of the university’s main building, and examined the card together. “A.L.G. – professional problem solver and supernatural expert.” Pen read off dubiously.

“Well, this is definitely supernatural.” Bean said. “Where’s the address?”   
“…under a bridge?” Pen joked.   
Bean took the card, and flipped it. Letters seemed to materialize out of nowhere. “Across the street from the castle—hey, it’s one of those hologram cards!”

Pen seemed to disagree, but followed her up the hill anyway.   
They didn’t spot it at first—they had to stand directly in front of the castle and _turn_ , and it sort of… appeared in between a pub called ‘The Handsome Knight’ and a clothing store.   
“Cool!” Bean said.   
“Oh, this isn’t going to go well.” Pen sighed.


	17. Wow this clears up nothing at all actually

A.L.G.’s ‘emporium’ was filled with many knickknacks, the primary purpose of which seemed to be ‘interesting clutter’. A bell tinkled overhead as they entered, and strangely scented incense wafted around the room.

“Hello?” Bean called.   
“Just a minute!” A woman called back. “…what century is it?”   
“Oh my _God_.” Pen muttered as Bean replied that it was the 21st century. Bean elbowed him. “Luci said she’s legit.”   
“Luci also said you’re pregnant.” Pen pointed out.

A.L.G. poked her head out from behind a beaded curtain that they hadn’t really noticed before. She was wearing enormous sunglasses, a terrible black wig, and a pink dress that wouldn’t have looked out of place at a Renaissance fair. “Pregnant? No, it’s too early for that.”   
Bean and Pen jumped.

“Who are you?” Pen demanded.   
“I’m the mysterious, the amazing, the one and only…” A.L.G. paused for dramatic effect. “Dee.”   
“Your name starts with ‘A’.” Pen held up the card and tapped it for emphasis.   
“D is the second letter in my name, and ‘dee’ is part of my nickname.” Dee replied.

Pen shot Bean a _look_.   
“Well, this has all been very nice, but…” Pen said, very clearly headed towards the door.   
Bean grabbed his hand before he could leave. “Luci said you could help us.”   
Dee smiled in a way that was surely meant to be mysterious, and Pen realized she wasn’t much older than Birdy, if even that. “I haven’t met Luci in this life.”

“What about previous ones?” Bean challenged.   
Dee looked caught off-guard for a moment, then she grinned. She took off the sunglasses, and rested them on top of her wig. This revealed two things—one, brown eyes that felt strangely familiar to Bean, and two, a complete facial structure that had Pen looking back and forth between Bean and Dee.

“Now you’re asking the right questions.” Dee said. “Come on in—don’t mind the fireworks display. Or do. They’re a bit volatile.”   
Pen gave the pile that she pointed to a wide berth. “Are those legal?”   
“Nope.” Dee said happily. “But they’re not _illegal_. I made them myself.”

Bean grinned at Pen, whose eyes were wide. They did eventually follow her behind the beaded curtain, where there was a round oak table. Dee sat down at one end, and pulled out a deck of cards seemingly from nowhere.   
“So, what kind of questions do you have?” Dee asked conversationally.

Bean sat down across from her, and Pen followed suit, sitting next to _her_.   
“So, there are these dreams…” Bean began.   
Dee shrugged and began shuffling. “Dreams from eight hundred years ago?”   
“How’d you know?” Pen asked.

Dee grinned. “Well, by now, you know you’re reincarnations. It’s easy enough for me to guess—and as I said, I’m mysterious and amazing. But you didn’t come here to ask that.”   
“I got a scar.” Bean said quickly. “It… from a cauterized wound. It faded quickly, but it _hurt_ …”   
Dee looked alarmed. “Anything else?”   
“She was flipping between her and… someone else.” Pen leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

Dee looked even more alarmed. “Okay, here’s what I know. The second one? That’s you, M… Bean. That’s in your blood. You can… pass between time.”   
“What?” Bean said. “That’s…”   
“Crazy?” Dee said. “You saw two of them, didn’t you? Him, I mean. The other had a black eyepatch over his right eye, blue and red armor—plate interspersed with chain mail.”

Bean stared at her. “How did you know that? I didn’t… tell anyone that much.”   
Dee began shuffling the deck of cards harder. “There are some things I won’t answer for… reasons. Personal reasons. But you accidentally tapped into _something_ alongside normal… reincarnation dreams.”   
“How do you know so much about reincarnation dreams?” Pen asked.

Dee smiled, slowing the cards. “I’m amazing, and mysterious. …and my parents had reincarnations. Not as often or as… intense as you two seem to, if I’m understanding you both and Luci correctly. But you do realize there’s not just… it’s not just one stop—two stop? This is… the third time, maybe the fourth, where you’ve found each other properly. Last time it didn’t go well, it makes sense that you wouldn’t want to remember that.”

“Wait, so you’re saying we’re actively remembering this?” Bean asked.   
Dee nodded. “More or less. Your… _souls_ , your very essences, are reaching out and pulling on memories to make the connection stronger. You’ve known each other… what, a week? But it doesn’t feel like it, does it?”   
“So we have control of it?” Pen asked. “Out of… let’s say curiosity, how would we stop it? I don’t want more nightmares about tsunamis.”   
Dee bit her lip. “I’m guessing, time apart would slowly stop the dreams. Like… well, not to rhyme, but popping the seams.”   
“And the scar? Was that because I was there?” Bean asked.

“No, he would have noticed you were different.” Dee muttered, before straightening herself and shuffling harder.   
“What happened last time?” Pen asked. “Does this have something to do with that?”   
The cards were practically flying now. “I… maybe. Maybe someone wanted to warn you, or you wanted to warn yourself… last time was so different.”   
“What happened last time?” Pen repeated.

Dee suddenly stopped shuffling cards and stared at them. It was a bit unnerving. “You were a privateer who died when pirates boarded your ship and you wouldn’t join them. She never knew what happened to you. First she was drugged and dragged down the aisle, and then once her husband grew tired of her, she was institutionalized as a madwoman.”   
“It sounds like it was… unintentional.” Bean said. “And besides, it’s the twenty-first century, no one could do that now…”

“The first time he was a Welshman who was in Britain—I never found out why— and she was a Roman noblewoman and I _shouldn’t_ have looked at that…” Dee muttered to herself. “I shouldn’t have watched them both die.”   
Pen and Bean froze.   
“So… it seems… cyclical. Bad ending, good ending.” Pen tried slowly.   
Dee wiped at her eyes. “I… maybe. I think, whoever sent the scar… you, probably, I never heard the story about it last time, was sending it as a warning of what could happen if something goes wrong, but without invoking the… bad endings.”

“But it was… it was _fine_. He saved my life with it.” Bean protested.   
Dee looked at her solemnly. “…Dreamland didn’t fall. There were… other options—stitches, for example, someone else’s medical experience. The scar was the beginning of… it set things in motion that couldn’t be turned back.”   
“What kind of things?” Pen frowned.   
Dee sighed. “As my sister often lamented before she found someone willing to marry her, it is a sad truth that men don’t want wives scarred in battle. Besides, there was no chaperone in that cave, and only you two know what really happened. Gossip spreads. The net closed, especially when she found out that she was pregnant for the first time. And of course, since they—you—had both disgraced yourselves—themselves—you were sent away. And there was no turning back once the path was walked to Dolorous Garde.”

“Like the story?” Pen asked.   
Dee brightened. “Well, if I recall correctly, you’ve always liked them. It’s reverted back to its old name now, there were extensive and expensive reparations in the 90s—it’s the Summer Castle, just outside Dreamland—but the point was, the scar marked the beginning and the end. The scar is a warning that this is your last chance.”

“Last chance for what? We’re due for a happy ending and no one’s going to die at sea.” Bean said.   
“I am all for taking risks.” Dee said, and Pen muttered something about ‘illegal homemade fireworks’. Dee continued, “But that’s exactly the problem. I don’t _know_ if this is cyclical, or if there’s a step missing or… what could happen. This world is as dangerous as any other. I’m not… advocating one path or another, but if there’s anything that my father taught me, it’s to exercise caution if there’s an unknown variable.”

“Homemade fireworks.” Pen said.   
Dee beamed at him, flipping immediately. “That’s a _known_ variable. My advice is for both of you to keep doing what you’re doing, but potentially carry knives.”   
“Oh.” Bean said.

Dee dug one out of seemingly nowhere, just like the cards. “Here, you can have this one.” She sent it skittering across the table.   
“I have so many, I won’t miss one.” Dee said. “And that one doesn’t have sentimental value anyway, I just thought it was pretty.” It did indeed have a pink, sparkly handle, and a bedazzled sheath.   
“Uh… thank you.” Bean said. “It’s very… nice.”

Dee grinned. “Thank you! I thought so too! Of course, it’s no lucky, standard-issue knife from eight hundred and six years ago, but it’ll still work in a pinch. Don’t worry, it’s cold iron—though really that’s a different issue.”   
“How do you know so much about us?” Pen asked suspiciously as Bean pocketed the knife.   
“Because I’m mysterious and amazing.” Dee said with a sharp smile. “And that’s all you need to know.”

“And how much do we owe you?” Bean asked.   
“On the house.” Dee replied.   
Pen narrowed his eyes at her, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He typed something in, and then asked, “Your middle name is Lavinia, isn’t it?”   
Dee’s eyes widened comically. “Uh…”

“How’d you guess?” Bean asked him.   
“She knew too much, and she has your nose.” Pen replied. “…and she makes the same shocked face you do, and she’s just as bad at lying under pressure.”   
Dee—Addie, short for Princess Adelaide—flushed, and took off the bad wig, revealing snow white hair in a ponytail underneath. “I’m not that bad, am I? Better than you.”

“Right, except I don’t lie.” Pen replied. “And this conversation has _officially_ gotten too weird.”   
Bean looked back and forth between Pen and Addie. “But I… but she… she should be _here_.” She pointed at her abdomen.   
“You guys have already had Emma?” Addie asked, scandalized but also obviously fascinated.   
“No, I meant… everyone with a womb is born with all the eggs they’re gonna have, right? So rather than ‘twinkle in the father’s eye’, any future children are ready to go on the mother’s side.” Bean said, gesturing to herself pointedly.

“Logical paradox, you’re right.” Pen nodded.   
“It’s not a paradox, you’re reincarnated.” Addie looked annoyed. “I’m also not coming into direct contact with… myself. Or who I’d be. Shit, now I’m thinking about it.”

“Also Luci said you saw me die.” Bean blurted out.   
Pen slowly turned to look at her in horror, while Addie bit her lip. “I… have. Technically. The first cycle, and… I was there in the madhouse. Just for a moment, I didn’t want you… her… to be alone when she died. But if you mean _my_ mother, no, I haven’t. Not yet. Some things are still in _my_ future. Luci… I think he took the long way around, if you know what I mean.”   
“I hate this conversation.” Pen said. “It’s important to me that you know this.”

Bean squeezed his hand. “Don’t worry, you were already dead. Luci said you went fast.”   
Addie looked even more distressed. “…he always goes fast… she always goes slowly…”   
“Everything’s going to turn out fine.” Pen said, because he had more experience with younger people looking up to him. More accurately, he had a better relationship with his younger sibling than Bean.

Addie still looked troubled. “…I’m going to go home. After you two leave. I want to see my parents as… well, as my parents. So if you have anything left to ask, ask now.”   
“Will that be the only warning?” Bean asked.   
Addie shrugged. “I can’t actually see the future. Or, really, I _can_ , but my parents warned me about going too far into my own future, or a future I interacted with like this one. You’re… separate… from my consequences.”   
“Does this mean your future is written in stone?” Pen asked. “Because whatever happens next to you is going to happen anyway in our history, right?”

“You mean fate?” Addie considered this. “I suppose so—after all, you two were fated to find each other again. According to Luci, my siblings and I are fated to be born in… well, good end timelines, as you said earlier.” She started shuffling cards again, and then Bean asked, “Do your parents know you do this?”   
“Does your father know about the illegal fireworks?” Pen added drily.

Addie looked up sharply. “Wow, look at the time. I’m out of it.”   
“You’re—and I can’t believe I’m saying this—a time traveler. From eight hundred years ago.” Bean pointed out.   
“And I’m out of time. Bye.” Addie said, herding them out of the shop, past the knickknacks and incense and jangly bell.   
“How’d Luci get your card if you haven’t met him in this life?” Pen added.

“Sent it by mail.” Addie said brusquely. “He actually _does_ know I’m doing this.”   
“So your parents don’t.” Bean filled in.   
Addie flushed. “I’m sorry, I think I hear my mother calling me.”   
“ _I’m_ your mother!” Bean replied.

“So sorry.” Addie said, though she was clearly anything but. She shoved them out unceremoniously, and closed the door.   
Bean turned to Pen. “I think she gets her bluntness from you.”   
Pen scoffed good-naturedly as he turned to look at her. “Are you kidding me? The evasion is all you.”   
She gently bumped his shoulder. “ _Nah_.”   
He bumped back, grinning. “Yeah.”

They left, not noticing that the shop had more or less disappeared, leaving a brick wall between the pub and the clothing store. They also didn’t notice that while they hadn’t been followed _into_ the shop, someone had been watching from the pub.


	18. Pen doesn't like 'Quest for Camelot' because it's not ACCURATE to the ARTHURIAN LEGENDS

Pen had been agitated for a few minutes now—opening and closing various cupboards.   
“What’re you looking for?” Thomas said.   
“My phone!” Pen snapped.

Thomas slid it across the kitchen table, and Pen narrowly caught it before it fell off.   
“Charged it for you.” Thomas said innocently, the number he’d copied safe in his pocket.   
Pen shot him an annoyed look. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”   
Thomas shrugged. “Didn’t know what you were looking for, did I? Besides, you’ve been doing your stupid smiling-and-staring-off-into-space thing since you got home late this afternoon. Didn’t even realize your phone was gone until later.”

“What’d you do?” Pen demanded.   
Thomas grinned, and pulled out his own phone, before calling Pen.   
“ _United we stand, now and forever—in truth, divided we fall.”_ Sang out Pen’s phone.   
Pen rolled his eyes and mock-glared at his brother before declining the call. “Cute.”

“It’s a bop. Besides, I thought you liked fantasy stuff?”   
“Arthurian myths are not… well, they are, but they’re not—”   
“I cannot tell you how much I don’t care about King Arthur, or your feelings about that movie.” Thomas said. “Change it back if you want. …your girlfriend has a specialized ringtone, by the way.”   
“What did you do?” Pen repeated, going into his phone. “What’s…?”

He played the sound file. “ _Oh, you touch my tra-la-la_ …”   
Pen flushed. “I’m going to _kill_ you.”   
Thomas laughed. “You can try, little brother.”   
“You’re going to wake up in the middle of the night with me holding an empty bucket and your bed soaked with water.” Pen vowed.

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Try _that_ , and you’ll end up with another broken nose.”   
“I will have my revenge.” Pen muttered to himself as he left.   
Thomas waited until Pen was properly gone, then sent a text to the number he’d copied.

_(Unknown Number) 7:08pm  
Hey, ‘Princess’. We need to talk. : ) _

Bean reached for her phone, then frowned at the text.

_(Little Miss Fake ID) 7:09pm  
Who is this? _

_(Unknown Number) 7:10pm  
U dnt rmmbr me? : ( I thot we wer frens _

_(Little Miss Fake ID) 7:11pm  
???? I think u hv a wrng # _

_(Unknown Number) 7:11pm  
Nah. Meet me @ the Flying Sceptre @ 8, we need 2 talk, ‘Bean’. _

_(Unknown Number) 7:12pm  
If that’s evn ur name. _

_(Unknown Number) 7:13pm  
Dnt tell anyone else, I need 2 talk 2 u alone _

_(Little Miss Fake ID) 7:14pm  
Uh?? I’m not gng 2 meet a strngr alone??? Stalker _

_(Unknown Number) 7:15pm  
: ) I mean I dnt want 2 tlk 2 Pen abt this instd of u but I will : ) _

_(Little Miss Fake ID) 7:16pm  
Ok but I hv a (knife emoji) _

About forty-five minutes later, Thomas was sitting in a booth at the _Flying Sceptre_ , packed with university students, when Bean entered.   
He whistled to get her attention, and she slowly made her way over.   
“Pen—?” She asked warily.   
Thomas burst out laughing. “A year apart, and you’ve already forgotten your best friend? Tell me, would strait-laced Pen ever sneak an underaged girl drinks?”

Confusion was replaced with understanding. “Thomas. You’re… you’re Pen’s brother, aren’t you?”   
“What gave it away, the face?” Thomas asked. “I’ll even order you a drink for old time’s sake—I have to say, I missed my drinking buddy.”   
“Is that why you… you could have just said.” Bean huffed. “Instead of this… creepy, stalker stuff!”

“Oh, that’s not why we’re here.” Thomas’ expression was a good deal more friendly than his tone. “Let’s see… first off, what name are you going by these days?”   
“Bean. I’m Bean.” She said. “My real name.”   
“Well, you managed to convince that man that I’m pretty sure you fucked in the bathroom that your name was Anastasia.” Thomas pointed out.

Bean flushed. “That was a long time ago.”   
“Three years.” Thomas corrected. “Three years ago isn’t that long—I was Pen’s age three years ago. Pen was your age now.”   
“What do you want, Thomas? I’m not ashamed of having sex.”

Thomas leaned back, looking thoughtful. “For the record, I’m not shaming you for having sex. I’m trying to protect my little brother from the clap, because I _know_ you didn’t use condoms. Anyway, here’s how I envision the future. Birdy might become a millionaire, I don’t know, I presumably will stay here and be a deadbeat for the rest of my life, that’s fine—but Pen? Pen’s going to have a nice little house, and a nice little wife, and he’s going to die old and happy surrounded by grandchildren. You are chaos incarnate, Bean. That’s not going to happen to Pen if _you_ are there.”

Bean scoffed. “That’s what this is? Thomas, I haven’t seen you in a year and—”   
“You know, I thought you died a year ago.” Thomas interrupted. “I worried about the fact that I thought I’d somehow helped you to your death. All because I thought that we were friends, and that meant that I should have helped you more than just getting you alcohol.”   
Bean swallowed. “I’m sorry about that.”

“No you’re not—otherwise I wouldn’t have had to set up this meeting to talk to you.” Thomas replied smoothly. “But here’s the thing. That’s what I mean when I say you’re chaos incarnate, Bean. For two years, I helped you raise hell in every bar in the city. We got thrown out of a good deal of them. For two years, I punched assholes who you needed me to punch, and stood by while you made _very_ questionable decisions in terms of your partners. I helped you drink underage. That’s not what Pen needs—having that in his life will make him miserable.”

“I think you should let Pen decide that for himself.” Bean snapped.   
“ _I_ think it’s better to cut it off now before you fake your death _again_ , and ruin Pen’s life.” Thomas said, drumming his fingers on the table. “I also think that Pen doesn’t _need_ another alcoholic in his life—he already hates that I drink, and God knows Arwel fucked him over so bad that he’s afraid to touch it himself.”   
“I went to rehab.” Bean hissed at Thomas. “ _That’s_ where I was for the past year, asshole.”

“How’s that going?” Thomas asked conversationally. “Or even better, what happens if down the line you return to who you really are? What if Pen finds you with your tongue down some stranger’s throat? Dancing drunk on top of a table? Are you going to make him bail you out of jail?”   
“You did.” Bean snapped.   
Thomas’ eyes grew hard. “No. My family doesn’t know about my… _our_ … rap sheet. I had Luke bail me out, and I never did anything worse than spend a night in the drunk tank.”

“How is Luke?” Bean asked.   
“He’s not… around… anymore.” Thomas said.   
“So just because your boyfriend left you, I should leave mine?” Bean huffed. “Fuck off.”   
Thomas shrugged. “I did say I’d tell Pen about you. I don’t _want_ to, but I will to protect him from further hurt down the line. And let’s be honest here. Strait-laced Pen isn’t your type. You’re going to get bored, and _that’s_ something that I’m very worried about. Because the idiot will excuse anything you do, won’t he? He won’t mind if you cheat on him. He won’t mind if you come home so drunk you can’t see straight. He won’t mind if you just… take off for a few days. He’ll do anything for you, won’t he? Yeah, I can see why that’s alluring for you.”

“Stop it.” Bean ground out. “It’s not like that.”   
“Oh, I really think it is. Pen is… deeply loyal, to a fault.” Thomas said.   
“No, I’m not going to do that to him.”   
“Oh, right, you’ve changed your behavior from the past three years in a week.”

“I _said_ I went to rehab—you’d know that if you listened instead of _monologuing_.” Bean snapped. “So I _have_ changed, and I spent the last year doing it!”   
“So you made up with your father?” Thomas asked, still conversationally.   
“I… that isn’t relevant.”

“You no longer want your mother to be different, knowing she won’t?”   
“That… you need to stop.” Bean said shakily.   
Thomas raised an eyebrow. “You no longer cheat at cards?”   
“That was one time.”   
“You appreciate all the advantages life has given you?”

“What advantages?” Bean asked flatly. “I got told today that Pen and I could fuck up badly and both get hurt.”   
“Isn’t that what I’ve been saying? You’re saying you listen to and appreciate criticism now?” Thomas asked.   
Bean curled her hands into fists so hard that she could feel her nails bite into her palms. “Fuck _off_ , Thomas.”

“You know, you’ve spent a lot of time telling me I’m wrong, but you never told me _why_ I’m wrong. Oh, sure, you went to rehab, but you don’t think you’re going to… well, you know just as well as I do that you’re just going to hurt Pen. We’re both the kind of person who destroys everything around them.”   
“Fuck off, Thomas.” She nearly whispered.

Despite the noise around them, Thomas heard her.   
“And you’re giving him nightmares.” Thomas continued. “Just let him be, Bean. He’ll find someone in a few years, settle down, have a few kids, and live a happy, simple life. You… if you care about him, you’ll let him have that life.”   
“I thought you said I _don’t_ care about him.” Bean bit out. “Which is it?”

“Oh, I know you care about him, as much as you care about anything. I just know you’ll use him up later and send him on his way.” Thomas shrugged.   
“What do you mean?”   
“You care now, but you won’t later. When he’s sunk his whole heart and soul into you, you’ll tell him to fuck off. I know you.”   
“You don’t know _shit_.” Bean hissed.

“I know you. I know him.” Thomas repeated. “What’s it going to be? Are you going to be selfish and soak up all the love he has to give before throwing him away like a used tissue? Or are you going to let him down now, when it’s only been a week? Let him find love elsewhere—some pretty blonde who will love him as much as he loves her, someone he can dote on and have children with?”

“You know he _could_ have children with me, right?” Bean bit out.   
Thomas laughed. “You want kids? And here I thought you once had me get you a bottle of gin so you could try and wash away the fact that you’d forgotten a condom the week before. Hey, not that you used condoms anyway.”   
“I was _sixteen_ , Thomas.”   
“You know what Pen did at sixteen? He once played ten hours of video games straight—not first person shooter ones, the kind where the main character gets to run around with a sword. Deeply nerdy ones. We are who we are, Bean.”

She stared him for a minute. “Now?”   
“I’m not going to give you a time frame, but the sooner the better.”   
She shakily pulled out her phone.

_(Princess) 8:28pm  
Its ovr. _

_(Sir Pendergast) 8:29pm  
What’s over? Did you kill someone? _

_(Sir Pendergast) 8:30pm  
Do you need help hiding the body? _

_(Princess) 8:31pm  
Us. _

_(Princess) 8:32pm  
I was thnkng abt wht Addie said. _

_(Sir Pendergast) 8:32pm  
Oh. _

_(Princess) 8:33pm  
I thnk we shld spnd time aprt. _

_(Princess) 8:34pm  
So the drms stp a bit. _

_(Sir Pendergast) 8:35pm  
They might not stop for a while anyway. And what about the project? _

_(Princess) 8:36pm  
Well wrk it out. _

_(Sir Pendergast) 8:36pm  
Did I do something wrong? _

_(Princess) 8:37pm  
No _

_(Sir Pendergast) 8:37pm  
Is there someone else? Why now? _

_(Princess) 8:38pm  
Yeah _

She sent it before she could add something along the lines of ‘let’s go with that’.   
“That took a while.” Thomas commented. “Want a drink?”   
“You know, my mother couldn’t get me to drink.” Bean said.   
“Yeah, but your mother’s a bitch.” Thomas pointed out. “I’ll buy the first round.”

Bean hesitated. “Okay.”   
“No one ever changes.” Thomas said, a smile gently settling around the corners of his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He will also _deny_ that it was in fact, his favorite movie as a child. He is full of shame about this fact. 
> 
> No he has not, and will not watch Merlin. On principle.


	19. Angst angst ANGST

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all get smut in a chapter entitled 'angst angst angst'. This can only mean good things. 
> 
> If smut isn't your thing, skip from _Her smile grew._ to _"Last time?" He asked hazily._

It took a while for Pen to fall asleep, but when he did, there was another dream of the past waiting for him.

He was in a stable, looking at horses and checking them against his list. He didn’t want a horse. He needed a horse, though, he was mounted cavalry and… none of these horses seemed like they’d be able to replace Carrots.

Thankfully, he was jolted out of his thoughts by the princess popping up out of nowhere, with wet hair. Idly, he wondered if she’d been in the ocean again.   
“You will not _believe_ what Bunty said when I was washing up!” Bean hissed.   
“What happened?” Pendergast replied, something internally settling in him at her not being back in that churning water.

“She saw my scar, and she said stuff like, ‘no man will ever want that, love’ and she was just…! It’s a badass scar!” Bean insisted.   
“I believe that.” Pendergast replied. He didn’t want to see it again, and think about her bleeding out into the water as he swam and swam against the crushing waves…   
“What would it be like if I was a prince?” Bean demanded, implying she had a good idea of that already.

Pendergast stopped looking at his list for a minute, and instead looked at her. She was watching him intently, her face completely serious. Her hair was dripping onto her shirt, and he realized that she was a lot closer than he’d previously guessed. He could practically smell her, in a good way.

She smelled warm, and he did not want to think about that. He could smell notes of lavender, a bit of lye from the soap, but mostly… her usual sweet scent. Nope. Should _not_ be thinking about the princess like that. She’d lost blood in the cave, she wasn’t speaking sense.

“Well?” Bean said, and Pendergast was jolted back to his senses.   
“You’d be paraded through the streets.” He said honestly. “Everyone would want to buy the savior of Dreamland a drink, and see the scar. You’d be a legend. Songs would be written about you.” He pointedly did not mention that there already _was_ a song. He did not like that song.

“When morning came, they found her lace upon the floor…” Someone sang outside the stables, and Pendergast pinched the bridge of his nose.   
“What’s that?” Bean asked. “I’ve been cooped up in the castle—you know that song?”   
“Yes.” Pendergast ground out.

“Why are you making the _face_?” Bean asked.   
“The princess and the knight, a love so bright…!” The bard continued.   
Pendergast raised an eyebrow. “You do realize who the song’s about, right?”   
Bean flushed. “I don’t… what?”

“Oh, it gets worse. It implies that not only did I take your virginity, I killed Guysbert in cold blood.” It did more than imply that part.   
Bean stared at him. “Holy shit.”   
“I know!” Pendergast threw his hands up in the air. “I’m pretty sure it’s Bentwood propaganda, but your father won’t have it banned for some reason!” (He was aware of the reason: they seemed to think that shifting the blame onto _him_ wouldn’t hurt anything and make Bean more marriageable. Plenty of princesses had lost their virginities before marriage—not every princess accidentally killed their intended.)

“Wait, are we _dead_ in the song?” Bean asked, having been listening to the bard while Pendergast ranted.   
“Oh, yes, that too.” Pendergast said.   
“What do you mean about virginity anyway?”   
Pendergast flushed. “You know that’s what they mean by lace things on the floor, right?”

Bean looked at him, confused. “I don’t wear lace.”   
“They mean underthings.” Pendergast said.   
Bean scoffed. “That’s not the point of lace, even _I_ know that. Besides, I don’t wear _underthings_ as you call them.”   
“What.” Pendergast said flatly, suddenly finding the lines the drops of water were making on her shirt fascinating.

“Bunty says only whores wear underwear.” Bean said firmly. “I mean, I have a strophium so that my boobs don’t go flopping around everywhere—”   
“Princess.” Pendergast said hoarsely, before looking away. He should _not_ be thinking about the princess’ chest.   
“Aw, c’mon, Pen. I thought we were past this.” Bean said.   
“I… know better than to expect things from—” She cut him off by kissing him. He pushed her up against a nearby post, and she leaned into him.

She broke away first. “So, you know the hayloft?”   
“Uh huh…?” He was looking at her lips specifically. “Here?”   
“I mean, above us, yeah. I hear it’s a pretty good spot.” She grinned at him.   
His brain finally caught up with her. “I… that’s a spot for lovers, princess.”

She kept grinning at him. “I want that kiss back, with interest. If that’s okay?”   
He nodded. “I… _yes_.”   
“After all, why not make _something_ from that stupid song true?” She asked, eyes big.   
He followed her up the ladder to the hayloft, then closed the hatch behind them. No one was going to bother them up there.

She grinned up at him. “C’mere, Pen. …I’m glad that your armor’s still being remade, this would be a lot more uncomfortable if I was pressed up against it.”   
“Oh?” He said, before she tackled him into another kiss. This one was deeper, more urgent. Her teeth scraped up against his lip, and his against her tongue. She gave a growl, and pulled away from his mouth, before moving onto his neck.

She straddled him, despite the fact that they were both still very clothed, and he flipped her. She looked surprised, before she grinned up at him.   
“What are you going to do, Pen?” She asked, grinding her hips against his.   
“Anything you want.” He promised.   
Her smile grew.

Within minutes, their clothes were out of the way—the most trouble was her strophium, which he eventually untied with a growl of his own—and she was in his lap as he returned the bites. His mouth dipped lower and lower as she leaned back, supported by his arms. His teeth grazed the flesh of her breast, and she gasped, hands tangling into his hair.   
“Okay?” He asked.   
“Okay.” She replied, smiling, as they repositioned. His hands began to move, and she moaned, rolling her hips back up against him. Hands were followed by his tongue, and _God_ she tasted good. Even better than she smelled.

Then she sat up and pulled away.   
“Princess?” He asked.   
“C’mon, Pen. If I only wanted you to eat me out, I wouldn’t have bothered getting you out of your clothes.” She said.   
He licked his lips. “…that’s a gift I can never repay—”   
“Jesus Christ Pen, I’m getting laid too. You don’t have to thank me.”

“Alright then.” He pulled her closer, and then— _and then_ —God, she felt good around him. One of her legs wrapped around his waist, the other locking his legs in place. Slowly, they began to move, and judging by the way that she was biting her lip, she was enjoying herself.

“Faster, Pen.” She whispered.   
“Louder, princess.” He replied, shifting them so that he had a better angle.   
Her nails began to scratch and dig into his back as he went _deeper_ , and he heard her moan. His mouth dipped down to where her neck met her shoulder, and he bit _hard_. Some primal ( _stupid_ ) part of him wanted everyone to know that she was taken, even if he was far more hers than she was his. She liked it, though, her hips bucked against his and she tightened around him.

He started moving faster, and she responded in kind. Hazily, he noted that she _was_ getting louder.   
“Fuck, yes, don’t stop…!” She was getting close to screaming.   
He didn’t stop. He continued until she gasped and her eyes rolled, then he more or less knelt, and laid her hips on tops of his legs, and then continued.   
“Don’t you _dare_ stop!” She hissed.   
“Prin… princess, I’m getting close…” He closed his eyes. Maybe he could…

“Don’t stop.” She repeated, tightening again. “That’s… Jesus, consider it a royal order.”   
Damn it, she knew his weaknesses. He didn’t. He continued past the point where he had done a very, very stupid and dangerous thing, until his legs ached and he finally collapsed next to her in the hay. She cuddled up next to him. “Mm… that was good. Way better than last time.”   
“Last time?” He asked hazily, tracing abstract patterns on her skin.

“Eh, well, you know how I helped that dragon guy get away? It wasn’t even that good. I was too dry and there was metal digging into my back the whole time and it kind of felt like it was all about him.” She shrugged. “I mean, I consented and all, it just wasn’t as fun as I was expecting.”   
“I’m sorry.” Pen said.   
She tangled her legs with his. “Don’t be. I’m glad I got all the pain and the stupid stuff out of the way. This was fun.”

“Mm…” He said, burying his face in her hair. He wanted to remember her scent. He could smell the hay in her hair now, but underneath all the external things, he could smell _her_. Warm, earthy, a bit savory, he just wanted to bury himself in her in every way possible.  
“Pen, don’t we have to go? Do you always get this cuddly after sex?”   
“Considering this is the only time I’ve done it, yes.” He tightened his arms around her.

“Aw, I took your virginity?”   
“Please don’t leave me crying, princess.”   
She wrapped a leg around him. “…nah. I like having you around, Pen.”   
He raised an eyebrow. “You keep calling me that.”   
She mimicked him, before breaking and grinning. “And you keep calling me princess.”   
“You _are_ a princess.”   
She sat up. “And you’re cute, and a lot more bearable since I got back from Maru. C’mon, Pen. I’m not going to leave now.”   
He followed her, and gently pulled her face to look at him. “Princess— _Bean_ … you do realize I’m made of flesh and blood too, right? I have feelings? Please don’t… give me all this and then throw me away.”

She blinked. “Whew, you’re really getting in there deep already, aren’t you? …look, I can’t tell what will happen in the future. You might… I might… that doesn’t matter right now. I like you, Pen. I told you I’m not going to leave. That’s all I can give you for now.”   
“Fair enough.” He said quietly.   
She got up on her tip-toes, and leaned her forehead against his. “You are… _interesting_ , Pendergast.”   
“Oh?” He replied. “What happens if I’m not interesting?”

Bean made a face. “That’s not what I mean. You like order, I know you do. You like it best when there are rules and they make sense to you. Fine. But you’re also a knight. There’s no order in battle.”   
“There’s no order to you, either, and yet here I am.” Pendergast added softly.   
Bean nodded. “Yeah, you get it now.” She reached for her clothes.

He got dressed as well, shaking out the hay from his clothes. “I guess… I don’t know, I’ve never thought of it that way. Maybe I need a little chaos.”   
“Maybe I need a little order.” Bean cracked another enormous grin. “Tie me up?”   
He flushed. “Uh… maybe next time?”

“Hmm? No, I meant my strophium.” The grin was still big. “Maybe next time indeed.”   
His cheeks felt like they were burning as he helped her tie the strophium, especially when she leaned back against him and looked up at him with those big blue eyes. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. He was hers in every possible way.

And eight hundred years later, Pen woke up in his bed. Alone, and with the crushing realization that whatever she said back _then_ didn’t matter _now_. He wasn’t enough now. He stumbled out of bed, and made his way downstairs so as not to wake up Thomas.

He didn’t realize someone was already there until it was too late.   
Lynette was sitting at the kitchen table with a steaming mug of peppermint tea in front of her. “Can’t sleep, machgen?”   
“Had a weird dream.” Pen replied, getting himself a cup of tea as well. “…do you think I’ll ever find someone?”

Lynette blinked at him. “Why wouldn’t you?”   
“I… remember the girl I told you about? I wasn’t enough for her.” Pen said quietly, sitting down across from her.   
“Oh, Pen… it’s nothing you did. Some people just aren’t meant for each other.”   
“I think I was meant for her.” Pen said quietly.

Lynette smiled sadly. “Oh, my sweet boy… your siblings are so cynical, but you’re the only one who’s a hopeless romantic, just like me. You’re young. You’ll find someone for you. Maybe it won’t be the same, but it being different doesn’t make it bad. You’ll always have your first love, but not everyone has only one love.”   
“Who was your first love?” Pen asked.   
Lynette sighed. “Oh, it was your father. Back when he was a good man, with a quick smile, and we loved making each other laugh. I still love the man he used to be.”

Pen’s grip hardened on his mug. “He… _why_?”   
“Because whatever else, there was a time when we were happy. And it does everyone in our family a disservice to pretend otherwise.” Lynette replied. “You wouldn’t be here if we hadn’t been happy once, Pen. I don’t love who he is now, and it’s better that way for all of us.”   
Pen took this in for a bit. “…you haven’t gotten another partner since you left him. What’s that about other people then?”

Lynette threw back her head and laughed. “Pen, my sweet boy, I don’t tell you three when I go out on dates. No, you’re right, there hasn’t been anything serious in a while, but I’ve decided I’ll pursue love more doggedly once you three are out of the house.”   
Pen frowned. “But who will be here to protect you then?”   
Lynette smiled, and reached out a gentle hand to run her thumb over Pen’s knuckles. “I _can_ protect myself from the evils of the world.”

“But you shouldn’t have to.”   
“But I have.” Lynette corrected calmly. “I got you, and your brother, and your sister out of there. I’m supposed to protect _you_ , Pendergast. Not the other way around.”   
Pen leaned back, crossing his arms. “Sounds fake, but okay.”   
Lynette chuckled. “One day, I hope you find your princess to protect, my little knight.”

Pen looked away. “She doesn’t want me.”   
“I didn’t mean her. I mean someone who will love you and appreciate you the way you deserve.” Lynette said softly. “Someone to soothe your aching heart, and let you be that open, hopeless romantic I know you are.”   
“No one else seems to see me that way.”   
“Well, I’m your mother. It’s my job to see the hidden gem underneath.” Lynette said. “Now finish your tea and get back to bed. I know you have work tomorrow.”


	20. Will I stop hurting this man? No of course not.

Pen pulled up to Zog’s house, and found a crew of workmen looking over the garage. Grimacing, he made his way inside.   
Zog, as usual, was in his office, and Pen _pointedly_ did not look at the painting above. He didn’t need her disapproval even now.

As it turned out, Zog had enough disapproval to go around. “What the hell, Pen?”   
“Sir?” Pen asked.   
“With my daughta. Two days ago.” Zog snapped. “Jus’ drivin’ off like that.”   
“I… thought that maybe it might do the situation some good.” Pen tried. “Give you both a little space to cool off.”

“Yeah? Well, that space hasn’t stopped. I haven’t heard from her since.” Zog said.   
“She… told me she doesn’t want me around yesterday.” Pen replied. “It’s only been two days…”   
“Pen, the kind of shit Beanie can get up to in a day would scare and inspire hardened criminals.” Zog deadpanned. “I’ll handle her, can ya go up to the castle and check in on the exhibition fer me?”   
“Of course.” Pen replied.

“Dismissed, then.” Zog said.   
Pen, predictably, went to the castle. He parked his bike –and locked it, just in case— at the rack outside the drawbridge, then went inside. He didn’t need a ticket, yet, but he was going to need a visitor’s pass. He detoured towards the gift shop, which also handled access.

Someone very familiar was there, though her hair was down now, and her name tag read ‘Mop Girl’.   
“I thought you worked at the coffee shop on Thursdays?” Pen asked.   
“They changed my schedule.” Miri huffed. “So are you here to buy a fake sword, a huge and expensive set of armor, mead, Christmas ornaments, et cetera?”   
“No, I’m here for a visitor’s pass.” Pen replied. “I’m here on official business. Hey, did you ever get your shoes back?”

“Yeah?” Miri said. “Your girlfriend dropped them off the next day. Didn’t she tell you?”   
“No.” Pen said quietly, thinking about the contradiction Bean had given on Tuesday. “And she’s not my girlfriend.”   
Miri leaned on the desk. “Yikes, what happened?”   
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Pen said.

“ _Oof_.” Miri said. “Sorry, buddy. That’s rough. But hey, your princess is out there.”   
“ _Why_ does everyone keep saying that?” Pen demanded. “The princess and the knight thing?”   
Miri gripped the counter. “Because I listen to that stupid song piped in here all the time. Always by the same woman who sounds like she’s about to burst into tears. Look around—everything in here is about princesses and knights. I don’t know about anyone else, but my life is oversaturated with this shit.”

“Since the exhibition?” Pen asked, drumming his fingers on the counter.   
Miri scoffed. “Exhibition’s not up yet. It’s not my department anyway. No, this is just Regular Castle Stuff.”   
Pen winced. “I am so sorry for the tide of fake swords coming your way.”   
Miri slammed the visitor’s pass down on the counter. “I will garrote you slowly when you’re at the edge of sleep.”

“That’s fair.” Pen said faintly, taking the pass.   
Miri waved him on through, and Pen clipped the visitor’s pass to his shirt and proceeded to where the barracks _had_ been. Anything left of them had been burned down in the English Civil War. Now the area housed part of the museum on site, and part of the storage area.

Pen spent the next fifty minutes listening to people, and then giving them ideas, taking notes, or generally engaging with the people running the exhibition. Overall, it seemed to be going well—several original pieces were on loan from the Maru Royal Museum, including the _Humble Demon’s Guide to the Royal Court_ —one of the only surviving primary sources. The whole thing was very tongue-in-cheek, and widely regarded to be satire. However, there was only one manuscript of it left—if there had ever been others—and it was the star of the Dreamland exhibition.

Maru had leant it on several conditions regarding light exposure, humidity control, temperature control, basically everything that could happen to it. They had also said that the only reason that they were lending it was because Dreamland had just as great a claim to the manuscript, and they did _not_ want this to become a legal battle. The problem was that there had to be the specific container built before Maru would send the _Humble Demon’s Guide_ , and they were behind schedule.

Pen recommended the University Engineering Department, then excused himself. He found himself on the battlements, because his visitor’s pass meant that he could walk the walls (the cheapest and least interactive part) without being bothered. He stopped and watched the sea beating against the rocks below, and thinking about the extensive restoration efforts there, (helpfully pointed out by an enormous sign encouraging him to donate) was a lot better than thinking about what was wrong with him.

Suddenly, he smelled something _other_ than the sea, but couldn’t quite place it. If pressed, he’d say it smelled the same but… he also felt the crackle of electricity lifting the hairs on the back of his neck—and the combination of the two meant that the experience he’d had in the park was… back.

That was all the warning he had before he heard her say, “Hey, Pen!” And wrap her arms around hi fro behind.   
He melted into her embrace, but turned around all the same when given the opportunity. She had to know.

And yep, there she was. Not _his_ Bean, but Princess Tiabeanie the first. “Hi, Bean.”   
Her eyes switched between his. “I… you’re not Pen. My Pen.”   
He leaned against the battlements. “No, I’m not. I think you…” He gestured vaguely.   
She blew a lock of hair out of her face. “Yeah, yeah. …do me a favor?”

“Hmm?”   
“Don’t tell my Pen about this. I think it scares him.” Bean sighed.   
Pen cracked a smile. “I know it scares _me_. Besides, I can’t talk to him.”   
“Mmm… so where’s the other me?” She asked, poorly disguising her curiosity.   
Pen looked out at the sea. “I don’t know where she is.”

“Aren’t you two…?” Bean asked, eyes wide.   
Pen sighed, and looked back toward her before he began cleaning his glasses on his shirt. “We _were_. She doesn’t want me.”   
“What? Why?”   
“She said there’s someone else.”

“That… _what_?” Bean asked.   
Pen slid his glasses back onto his face and shrugged. “That’s what she said.”   
“…I wouldn’t worry about it.” Bean finally said. “Pendergast and I always find our ways back to each other.”   
Pen crossed his arms. “But did you already have each other before then?”

Bean mimicked him. “I don’t know, I don’t think about it that hard. He asked me if we were courting a while back, I said no one’s courting. Does that count?”   
“No, I mean… if you had already said you were in a relationship, and then you just…” He trailed off with a sigh. “So it’s just me then?”   
Bean frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. …did you say something weird like ‘no women in the council room’?”

“I… no. I didn’t. You do realize women can hold property here and vote and things are generally better than the 1200s in terms of equality, right?”   
Bean blinked. “I… no. I didn’t. Huh. So why’s she mad?”   
“Hell if I know.” Pen said. “She said there’s someone else but I think… I think she just doesn’t want _me_. What’s wrong with me? Please? So I can fix it?”

“Oh, shit, Pen…” Bean said softly, moving to cup his face in one hand. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”   
“She doesn’t want me.” He whispered. “How do I…?”   
She leaned her forehead forward to meet his. “It’s not you. I mean, I don’t think it is. I don’t really know you one way or the other. But… you’re Pen, and I can’t just… no matter what, it always comes back to you.”

“I love you.” He whispered. “So, so much, and it _hurts_ so bad…”   
She kissed his cheek gently. “It’s all going to work out, okay, Pen?”   
He hugged her. “You’re so sure.”   
“Well, yeah, I gotta be. I know how much you love your plans, but this is something you can’t plan. Or bring order to. So I’ve gotta be confident about it or you’ll worry.” She grinned. “It’s cute.”

He closed his eyes. The smell of the sea returned to normal, and when he opened his eyes again, she was gone. He sighed and headed down to go home.


	21. Sorry Pen you're not really important in this

She wasn’t there for class the next day, or at Dungeons and Dragons, or at class on Monday. He tried texting her on Monday after class, but it bounced. Her phone was off… or she blocked him.

He swallowed the hurt from that. He had work to do—like asking for a new partner. Professor Odval shut that down immediately, but said that he would review their work personally. If Pen wanted, he would get full credit for the project, whereas she would get half or less. Pen quickly said no to that, and headed home for the day.

Luci was waiting for him, leaning against the house wall.   
Pen took off his helmet. “Luci? What are you—”   
Luci punched him. To be fair, Luci was a lot _lankier_ than him, and didn’t seem used to punching. Pen could definitely take him.  
Pen was really good at staying on his feet after a punch, but he was still mildly stunned. Not too stunned that he didn’t expect another one, but at least Luci was crossing his arms now.

“…what was that for?” Pen asked, feeling his nose. “You get one chance to explain yourself.”   
“What the _fuck_ did you do?” Luci hissed.   
“Me? What? …is she okay?” Pen asked, gripping the taller, thinner man’s shoulders.   
Luci struggled free. “No, she’s not okay, Knight Captain Idiot! She’s fucking _relapsed_ , and when she’s not drunk off her ass she’s sobbing over you!”

“Me? But…? Why me?” Pen asked, genuinely stunned.   
“I was hoping you could tell me.” Luci remarked drily. “I’m not canvassing the fucking neighborhood for answers here.”   
“No, I mean… she broke up with me. She said there was someone else.” Pen said.   
Luci threw back his head and laughed for a good minute.

“Are you done?” Pen asked flatly.   
“There is _no one_ else, you fucking moron.” Luci finally said, wiping at his eye. “It’s sickening. There’s only _you_ for _her_. She won’t have anyone else, not now, just like you wouldn’t.”   
Pen pulled out his phone, and showed Luci the messages.

“See now, that’s interesting.” Luci said. “Because I could have _sworn_ I saw her come back with you. Same ginger-brown hair, same height, give a few inches… I thought you looked a bit more… well, buff, you can take a hit but you’re not built like a brick shithouse, but I thought it was the jacket… same accent.”   
“What are you implying?” Pen asked.

Luci cracked his knuckles. “I’m implying I had a hypothesis I needed to test. Because Fake Pendergast smelled like cigarette smoke when he helped her to the door. Strike one. Fake Pendergast didn’t gaze at her like she hung the moon and stars. He looked at her like a normal person. Strike two. Fake Pendergast was drunk. Strike three, I know you’re a goddamn lightweight, and you know it too. You’d never drink, especially to the point where you’re able to keep up with her.”   
“Sounds like you know who it was.” Pen said.

“Maybe. But Bean was also sobbing your name, so forgive me if I mistook one brother for the other.” Luci said.   
“I never mentioned my brother.”   
Luci rolled his eyes. “Right, sorry, am I supposed to not know? Elfo and I did the… the Google.”   
Pen fought the smile regarding ‘did the Google’, because Luci was glaring at him and Bean… “How is she?”   
“She’s currently in the apartment, and Elfo’s tasked with keeping her there, or following her if he can’t.” Luci said. “I need to talk to the brother.”   
“You and me both.” Pen growled. “He’s inside.”

“Lead the way.”   
Thomas was lying on his bed, a cold cloth on his head, one leg hanging off the edge. He was also fully clothed.   
“Thomas, we have to talk to you.” Pen snapped.   
“We? And Penny, I have a hangover…” Thomas huffed.

“We.” Luci agreed. “Hi, I’m Bean’s roommate.”   
Thomas lifted the cold cloth off his forehead and eyed Luci. “Hello, tall drink of water. What’re you doing in my room?”   
“Our room.” Pen corrected.

“I’m here because Bean is a goddamn mess.” Luci snapped.  
Thomas sat up. “She’s kind of always a mess.”   
“I’m sorry, how do you know her?” Pen growled. “And she’s not a mess!”   
“The narc has a point. She’s not usually a mess with him around. And since he let me punch him in the goddamn face, I’m assuming he’s also a mess.” Luci said.

Thomas glanced between them. “They’ll get over it. Look, tall drink of water, do you really think Bean and Pen would be good together? It’s better this way.”   
“What the _hell_ did you do?!” Pen snapped.   
Luci stepped between the brothers smoothly. “Okay, Fake Pendergast. I see your point. But here’s the thing—this isn’t some stupid fling. This is… ugh, I’m going to say a lot of nice things real quick, but here goes. Somehow, they complete each other. Order to chaos and back again. They love each other, they respect each other—usually that takes some bumps and bruises, this time it seems faster though— and hell if they don’t make me think there’s hope for other people like me and El… that’s unimportant. They challenge each other to be better, but they also have each other’s backs. They take a while to get there, but they’re ride or die once they do. It’s… cute. I guess. How much they love each other, I mean.”

“That’s so cute.” Thomas snorted. “Anyway, it’s been a week. They’re not going to become soulmates in a week.”   
“Newsflash, asshole! They’re already soulmates!” Luci snapped. “That’s how soulmates work!”   
“Uh…” Pen tried to interrupt.   
“Soulmates are _made_ through hard work and effort, nothing else.” Thomas replied.   
Pen sat down on his bed to watch the debate.

“They already _did_ the work eight hundred years ago!”   
“Then it doesn’t matter if I told them to break up or not.” Thomas said. “What will be will be.”   
Luci steepled his fingers. “Fine. Fair. Wonderful. You know what’s not? She’s drinking again.”   
“ _What_.” Pen said flatly.

“And that’s exactly why she’s no good for Pen.” Thomas said, rising to his full height.   
“Jesus Christ, you’re bigger than _him_.” Luci muttered, as Thomas continued. “You _really_ think Pen needs to be running after another deadbeat alcoholic?”   
“I’ve already got you.” Pen snapped.

“And I’m truly sorry about that, but people don’t change.” Thomas said.   
“You’re too lazy to change, so you won’t.” Pen snapped. “People _can_ change, but they have to be the impetus for it themselves. You’re not going to change, Arwel wasn’t going to change, but she did. I think.”   
“No, yeah, she did.” Luci confirmed. “Before Fake Pendergast here led her back to relapsing.”

Thomas scoffed and crossed his arms. “How am I responsible for everything and she’s responsible for nothing? As you said, Penny, we’re responsible for ourselves. I take responsibility for myself, she doesn’t, and you’re going to run over there like a fucking white knight and try to save her from herself. And _that’s_ what I’m worried about.”   
“It’s not like that!” Pen growled, standing.

“You _fucking idiot_ , you know why you’re Mum’s favorite? Because you’re just like her! And I don’t want you to end up like her with Arwel!” Thomas snapped.   
“Bean is _not_ him.” Pen snapped back.   
Thomas scoffed. “We’re all doomed to repeat our parents’ mistakes. Me, I’ve got Arwel’s. You’ve got Mum’s.”   
“You are the most _selfish_ person I know, and I hate having you for a brother!” Pen snarled.

Thomas shrugged. “D’you really think I care? You came in here wanting answers, you got them. I’m not going to jump on the wagon and cheer for them. I can’t even promise I won’t cause a scene at their fucking wedding, because this is insane and he’ll only regret it.”   
“You’re getting a seat next to the bathrooms for that.” Luci said. “C’mon, Pendergast, we need to go pull her head out of a bottle.”

“What happened to personal responsibility?” Thomas scoffed.   
“Get some fucking help.” Pen snapped at him.   
“What, are you offering?” Thomas asked. “Now? Because you’re going to help your little girlfriend and you’ve _just realized_?”   
“I’m sorry we let you down.” Pen was obviously trying to keep a hold of his temper. “And if you need support, we’ll give it. But now? Now I’m sick and tired of this fucking spectre over my life. C’mon, Luci. We need to go check in on her.”


	22. Sadly No Thomas but here's Bean

Bean was actually doing great. Really great. This is what she was telling herself after retrieving the alcohol she’d left in her room the night before, and that’s what she was saying when Elfo kept looking at her with the Big Worried Eyes.

“Hey, where the hell did Luci go anyway?” Bean asked. She didn’t _feel_ drunk.   
“Uh… out?” Elfo lied, badly.   
“Yeah, I know that, but where?” Actually, it came out more as ‘why-re’ because her brain got mixed up in the middle but it was fine.

Elfo shrugged. “Um… you broke up with Pen, right?”   
Oh no no no no no. She was not drunk enough for _this_. She was barely drunk enough for the conversation with anyone who wasn’t trying to fuck her. “S’for s’own good.” Okay maybe that was a bit more slurred.   
“Why would you say that?” Elfo was trying to subtly grab her bottle from her now.

She jerked it back. “ _No_.”   
“Okay, okay. …why is it better for Pen?”   
“Look at me.”   
“I am.” Elfo said.

Jesus, she was getting a headache. “No, Elfo, _look at me_.” He never did, expeciallly—expecially? Especially—now. Elfo always saw what he wanted to see.   
“I know it’s a little rough right now…” Elfo was reaching for the bottle again.   
Her grip tightened. “ _No_ , Elfo. I failed. I’m not… I’m not this _perfect_ thing! I’m not going to fuck you!”   
Elfo drew back, obviously hurt. “I know that. I just thought we could be friends now. Real friends.”

He left the room, and Bean twisted off the cap on the bottle. Good, she’d also been a monster to Elfo. Great. She was closer to the end of the bottle and a good deal drunker when Luci came back with… someone.   
She squinted at the someone, because the someone was wearing glasses and a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, but Pen wouldn’t be here.

“Thomas? What’re you wearing?” She asked.   
The someone sighed, and picked her up bridal style. She knew those arms. She knew that smell. That wasn’t Thomas.   
“What the _hell_ are you doing here?!” She hissed. Didn’t he get that this was all for him?!

“I’m here to check on you, and make sure you’re doing alright.” Pen bit back. “Let me help you to your room.”   
“No, piss off.”   
“You need to _rest_ , and we can discuss this tomorrow.” He said.

“That one’s her room.” Luci said, the fucking traitor. He even opened the door, and Pen unceremoniously dropped her on her bed. She glared up at him, and he glared back.   
“If Thomas is your someone else, I’ve got unfortunate news for you.” Pen said.   
“Don’t-don’t out someone. I mean I already knew, but that’s not cool.” Bean said.

“I wasn’t going to, I was just going to say he’s still pining over his ex.” Pen said, raising an eyebrow. “Though really, at this point I’m beginning to wonder if I’m the next best thing since you can’t fuck my brother.”

“Holy shit, not the way I thought this was going to go.” Luci settled himself on Bean’s desk.   
“I don’t want to fuck Thomas.” Bean scoffed.   
“And yet you’re incredibly down to fuck someone who looks _just_ like him, give or take an inch.”   
“Stay out of this, Luci.” Bean snapped.

Luci waved his hand dismissively, but shut up.   
“So, what’re you going to do?” Bean asked. “Tell my dad I fucking failed?”   
Pen folded his hands behind his back. “You know, your father mentioned off-handedly that you’d been to rehab before, but he never mentioned why.”   
“Stole a car with someone inside it, crashed it into the river.” Bean said, moving to drink from the bottle again. Pen took it from her in one fluid motion.

“Okay, well I don’t think you’ve done anything that bad yet.” Pen said.   
“Give-gimme that back!” Bean snapped.   
“No.”   
“Fuck you, that’s mine! I bought it!”

Pen drank the rest, then tossed her the empty bottle, making a face.   
“Bad idea to give her a weapon, Knight Captain Idiot.” Luci commented.   
“I have a lot of—Jesus Christ, what _was_ that? I have a lot of things to say to you, and you don’t have to listen, but I’m going to stay here and say them anyway.” Pen said.   
Bean focused her energy on glaring at Luci the Traitor.

“I love you.” Pen said. “I don’t even care if you don’t love me back! Just check in from time to time, please? I’d like to stay friends.”   
“You shouldn’t love me.” Bean growled. Maybe Luci the Traitor would have to wait.   
“Well, I _do_. Deal with it. And this—what is this?”   
“I’m not better, don’t you get it? People never change!”

“You _can_ change! Thomas is just a fucking idiot who doesn’t want to do so himself, so he drags other people down!” Pen snapped. “Do you want to change?”   
“I… if I can’t, you need to accept that!” Bean snapped back, wiping at her eyes.   
Pen sighed, and dug out a tissue from his pocket. “Look… my mother once told me that addiction is a process. You’ll make choices every day, and whether they’re the _right_ one in your mind is up to you. Do you want to change today?”

“Fine.” Bean said. “It’s not like I’m this perfect fucking princess you put on a pedestal.” She was really proud of getting through all those ‘p-words’.   
“I don’t want _perfect_!” Pen said. He was beginning to sway, and Luci was watching, interested.   
“I don’t—did Thomas tell you that?” Pen demanded. “I know you’re not perfect! You’re argumentative—”   
“ _You’re_ argumentative!” Bean shot back.   
“And you push me and anyone else who might care for you away all the time, and you are _really_ intense and you’re incredibly impulsive and I think that sometimes, you need to realize that you are loveable and nowhere near as bad as you think you are! You’re—you’re self-destructive!” Pen pointed an accusing finger at her.

“And you’re so fucking brave but you’re also really scared of the world because you’re _lonely_ and I don’t even care if you love me I just want to help you not be lonely!” Pen was rambling now. “Sure your hair smells like butterscotch and you make me smile and you make me _interested_ in life and I want a future with you even before the stupid dreams started—this isn’t even about the dreams! I don’t care about the dreams! …where was I going with this?”

Luci gently pushed Pen, and he fell onto the bed next to Bean. “Well, this _has_ been fun, but now you two are too drunk to do anything.”   
“I’m not drunk, I’ve never been drunk!” Pen protested.   
“Eight hundred years, and all it took to get you to drink was a misguided and unwanted sense of protection.” Luci sighed. “I mean this with all the vitriol I have—God bless you, Pendergast Llewellyn Griffiths. Now, idiots, listen up. I’m going to leave a cup of water here, but no one is leaving this apartment until Bean sits down with us and works out a plan.”

“You’re not the boss of me.” Bean spat.   
“Excuse me? My entire fucking job is to take care of you. I can’t help you with bad decisions if you’re already making terrible ones.” Luci shot back. “Is this what you want? If you don’t want Pendergast, I’ll throw him out a fucking window.”   
“Hey.” Pen said.   
“If you want to drink yourself to death, I’ll replace some of your vodka with water so you’ll not die as quickly. But you want to know something, you unloveable piece of shit?”

“ _Hey_.” Pen snapped. “I love her!”  
“I’m mimicking her internal monologue!” Luci snapped back. “You want to know something, Bean? You’re my best friend in the entire fucking world, and you were the one who introduced me to the concept of family, and that’s it’s not what you’re made as, it’s what you _make yourself_. And that’s why I’m going to make sure you’re okay!”   
“What if I don’t want to be okay?!” Bean hissed. “What if I just want all of you to leave me alone?!”

“But I _know_ you!”   
“You don’t know _shit.”_ Bean snapped. “You met me a couple weeks ago and you’re not--!”   
Pen interrupted. “You wear your heart on your sleeve, and you’re so _passionate_ and I love your sense of humor. You’re Bean.”   
“Okay, lover boy, shut up.” Luci said.

“And I love your smile and your eyes…” Pen buried his face in her hair. “I love you, I love you…”   
“We don’t have _time_ for your unconditional love, idiot!” Luci hissed. “And… he’s already asleep. What was in that liquor?”   
“I don’t know, it was just shitty whiskey.” Bean ran a hand through his hair, before taking off his glasses.   
Luci watched them. “…you want to be needed, not bossed around.”   
“I’m gonna take a nap.” Bean replied, which wasn’t really a yes or no either way, but it did make Luci suspect that Elfo, trying to be helpful, had drugged the alcohol. Wonderful.

He went to get a cup of water as he’d said, and when he returned they were both asleep. He sighed, and placed it on the bedside table—as well as aspirin—while Bean and Pen curled into each other.


	23. This is the worst wedding yet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative Title(s): 
> 
> 1) "Lauren, this is the third time you've shown them getting married." AND YOU'LL HEAR IT AGAIN!  
> 2) Y'all know why you come to me. I'm not sorry.  
> 3) Man, what about that murder plan though? (Eyes emoji)  
> 4) They're lucky Odval likes Pendergast.

In the 1200s, Bean was sitting at her desk.  
Luci, a now a tiny demon instead of a human man, skittered onto her shoulder. “Why aren’t we going out and doing something more interesting?”  
“I don’t know man, I’m feeling really tired lately.” Bean said, writing something down.

“Mm.” Luci looked over her shoulder at what she was writing. “Lame.”  
That was when Bunty entered. “Princess, where have you put your rags?”  
“Rags?” Luci asked.  
“For the monthlies.” Bunty said. “Usually you’re so good about putting them with the other laundry, princess.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess I haven’t had any this month.” Bean said. “Must just be stressed or something.”  
Bunty put her hand to her mouth. “But you’ve never… princess, I need to go get you some wheat and barley.”  
“What?” Bean asked as Bunty hurried away.  
“I _think_ she’s getting you a pregnancy test.” Luci said.

“ _What_?” Bean repeated.  
“You know what’s really interesting? You seem put off by the smell of alcohol.” Luci continued.. “I’ve seen a lot less bottles around here, for instance.”  
“But I’ve… Luci, how long does it take to get pregnant?” Bean asked hurriedly.  
Luci let out a low whistle. “Wow, I’m guessing your sex education amounted to ‘lie back and think of Dreamland’. You’re probably pregnant. When’s the last time you had sex?”

“A few weeks ago… the first time. My period could just be late, right?”  
“Mm. Possibly. Didn’t Bunty just try to say you’re as regular as you could be? Probably because there’s no way you’re suffering from malnutrition… yeah, I’m pretty sure you’re pregnant. _The first time_ …” Luci muttered to himself, obviously trying to be serious. “Uh… next question, how many guys?”  
“Two, but the last one was a really long time ago.” Bean stood up suddenly, and put Luci down on the desk. “I have to go.”

“Yeah, you have to go tell some poor sod that Zog’s gonna kill him soon, and he better run.” Luci agreed. “Who is it, anyway?”  
Bean was already gone.

She burst into the courtyard, where Pendergast was drilling the remaining knights and trying to account for the casualties.  
“Pen!” She yelled.  
He turned. “Princess? Wh-what do you want me for? Right now?”

She ran over to him. “Pen, I’m pregnant.”  
He paled. “I… me? Mine?”  
“Yeah, who else’s would it be?” She snapped, flushing.  
He immediately dropped to one knee. “Princess Tiabeanie—”  
“What are you doing? You have to run!”

“Well, since I’ve dishonored you and your reputation, I might as well ask!” Pendergast huffed, still on one knee. “I’m not going to take the coward’s way out.”  
That was when he was yanked to his feet from behind.  
“Well, if the princess’ handmaid had somehow been able to be discrete, the two idiots under your command would have never been able to keep that information to themselves.” Odval remarked drily. “You two are supposed to come with me.”

“Supposed to?” Bean hissed. “We should go, Pen.”  
“Oh, yes, an amazing plan formed in under a minute by you two to be out of the kingdom, undetected, immediately.” Odval said.  
Bean stepped in front of him. “What’re you going to do?”  
“Unfortunately, you’ve involved Pendergast in your latest debauchery, so my previous plan—which will still be recommended, by the way—may have to be edited. You two, follow.”

They did, mostly because they didn’t really have any other option. The throne room was empty except for Zog and Luci.  
“Gast?” Zog asked. “You didn’t manage to catch the son of a bitch that got my daughter pregnant, huh?”  
Bean grabbed Pen’s arm before he could get down on one knee again.

Odval sighed. “Well, it seems that we have several options. The first is that, as that stupid song suggests, we execute both of them.”  
“Nah.” Zog said. “Not my daughter.”  
“We could also invest in not only a test to see if she’s actually pregnant, but get rid of it before it becomes a problem.” Odval pointed out.

“Isn’t that against your religion or something?” Luci asked.  
“It’s only murder after the quickening.” Odval pointed out stiffly. “Which, unless both Tiabeanie and Pendergast are more skilled in deception than any of us were aware of, isn’t for several months yet.”  
“Wait, you knew about this?” Bean demanded.  
“Not really, I don’t keep myself apprised of your sex life for my own sanity.” Odval said drily.  
“What other options do we got?” Zog asked, having realized that his prized knight had done the unthinkable.

“Kill him, send her to an abbey, wait for her to have the baby. If it’s a girl, devote it to the church, if it’s a boy, bring it back to Dreamland to be a spare.” Odval said tonelessly.  
Zog looked thoughtful, and Bean’s hands tightened on Pendergast’s arm. “No no no… Dad, don’t you remember his coup when you were sick?!”  
“Burnin’ ya at the stake is hardly a coup, Beanie.” Zog said.

“And if I may, I worry for the state of our kingdom if we’re suddenly losing the head of the army…” Pendergast added, placing his free hand on top of Bean’s.  
“Why don’t we just have them get married?” Luci said. “…ah, that felt like de ja vu.”  
“Unfortunately, the entire kingdom more or less already believes them to _be_ married.” Odval said stiffly. “And we should hardly reward such behavior… but if I may, sire, there is one contingency.”

“Nothing changes?” Bean tried.  
Odval sniffed. “No. We grant them a cadet house, send them to the Summer Palace—have them run it, have them rename it if they so wish—and leave them alone for a year. If they kill each other, fine, if she runs off, fine, at least we’ll know where we stand and that fucking public relations nightmare of a song will hopefully be gone in a year. _If_ , by whatever miracle, when they return in a year, they will be considered married—both through the law of your great-Grandfather, Ric the Third, wherein if a woman lies with a man and carries his child, she becomes his wife, and the law of your mother, Lavinia the First, wherein if a couple stays together for a year and a day they are granted the rights of husband and wife.”

“Those two seem kind of contradictory.” Luci pointed out.  
Odval rubbed his head. “Ric the Third was eventually arrested for bigamy after he fucked his way through half of the noblemen of Dreamland’s wives and his own wife overthrew him. The law was _technically_ never overturned, but it doesn’t often come into play unless it is a situation _very_ similar to this one.”  
“What if… this isn’t the first person I’ve had sex with? Hypothetically?” Bean asked.  
Odval sighed. “Ric the Third’s _actual_ wife later turned the law to ‘assuming there is no one else that the woman in question is currently lying with’.”  
“So… I _was_ married, but now I’m married to Pen.” Bean said slowly.

Odval threw his hands in the air. “It’s an old law, princess. Personally, I like a revision to the nunnery plan wherein we _don’t_ kill Pendergast, but we send him to guard the Northern border. He’s already familiar with a castle in the area. As for her, I have been looking at some _lovely_ walled nunneries, and I really think she’d benefit from the vow of silence one.”  
“ _Dad_.” Bean said, while Pendergast visibly stiffened.

“Okay, okay.” Zog waved his hand, then pointed at Bean, then Pendergast. “Married, married, come back in a year with a baby, or don’t come back at all.”  
Pendergast paled. “What if the baby…?”  
“Together.” Odval said. “That’s the main thing.”  
“You two leave in the morning. You can take a wagon and… I don’t know. Mop Girl, maybe?” Zog said, looking at Odval.  
“We can spare Mop Girl.” Odval agreed.  
“But what if the invading army returns?” Pendergast asked.

Odval shrugged. “You should be happy, Pendergast. After all, you fucked your way into inheriting more than you were going to. You’re a _lord_ now, and you’re going to have to learn how to manage land. Both of you. Won’t _that_ be fun to watch?”  
Pendergast looked like he’d rather set himself on fire and/or eat glass, but he clearly wasn’t going to argue.  
“Oh my god, we’re all going to die.” Luci muttered. “Hey, isn’t Dagmar still in the basement?”

“Oh, I suspect she’ll leave once she finds out Tiabeanie’s gone.” Odval looked positively delighted.  
“Wait, we need an experienced midwife.” Pendergast said. “I… please.” He looked like he was on the verge of panicking.  
“One would think the princess would be begging for that, not you.” Odval raised an eyebrow.  
“ _Please_.” Pendergast repeated. He looked like he was going to move forward before realizing Bean’s hands were still on his arm.

“Weird request, but I don’t want my daughter to die either.” Zog shrugged. “Send us a letter when she’s getting close, and we’ll send someone.”  
Pendergast nodded tersely.  
“You two should go pack.” Odval recommended.  
“Dismissed.” Zog added.

Pendergast bowed shakily, still pale, and moved to walk away. Bean, of course, cornered him in a nearby hallway. “What was that?”  
“What was what?” Pendergast asked.  
“That. I’ve _never_ seen you like that.”

He exhaled slowly. “I… my mother died when I was six. The… my sister died soon after. I’ll never forget all the _blood_ … I don’t want your blood on my hands. I don’t want you to die at all, but if it was my fault, I’d never be able to forgive myself. And-and the baby would die with you, or if it didn’t… I don’t know if I can be a father, but I definitely don’t think I can alone.”  
She noticed his hands curling into fists at his sides. “You’re still… okay, when we were in the middle of battle, and you were covered in blood, you didn’t blink.”

“That’s battle though.”  
That was when Luci popped up. “Sounds kind of like you push everything down and associate it with one specific trauma that you never expected to crop up again, and now that the possibility of it is looming, you’re becoming undone.”  
Pendergast ground his teeth. “I don’t want to talk about it.”  
“I know you don’t.” Luci said.

“Luci, piss off. Go get Elfo and start packing.” Bean said, before leaning up and kissing Pendergast on the cheek. “I’m not going to die, Pen.”  
“You sound so sure.” He said quietly.  
She nodded firmly, because _someone_ needed to be confident. She was a little surprised when he pulled her into a deep embrace, but leaned into him. They were going to be okay.

And that’s when Bean woke up in the 21st century.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So medieval pregnancy tests were kind of hard to do. Mostly, becuase as Odval says, it didn't count as one until 'the quickening'-- about four, five months in, when the baby would actually move. 
> 
> What Bunty went to go do, was to go get a gender pregnancy test. More specifically, medieval superstition said that if you peed on wheat and it sprouted, you'd have a girl. Pee on barley and it sprouted, boy. Pee on both and neither sprouted, not pregnant. Unfortunate that she was waylaid by Odval before she could get back with the test.


	24. Everyone Needs Therapy actually

“Hi.” She said softly, as Pen began to stir.   
“Hi.” He said back. “…you’re not pregnant, are you?”   
“I don’t think so.” She said. “I have a Nexplanon implant, so probably not. Also, I haven’t had sex in… uh… let’s not get into that. Point is, I’m not the Virgin Mary.”

Pen smiled and sat up. “Fair enough. …my mother and sister are okay, in case you were wondering.”   
She sat up as well. “I mean… I remember you mentioning them, but you… well, you know the dreams.”   
“What are we?” Pen finally asked. “Because us dancing around each other is awkward enough, but…”   
“You said you love me.” Bean pointed out. “You were _really_ insistent on that.”

He adjusted his glasses. “So? It doesn’t have to mean anything—”   
“Pendergast, you are… you’re the most aggravating man I know.” Bean said.   
“Oh.”   
“I’m not done. You’re stubborn, and you seem ready to run if you ever imply you want to have sex with me—your principles drive _everything_ you do, but… you make me happy, and you make me feel needed, and you make me feel special. I _trust_ you, and that’s more than I can say for most people. I love you and your stupid principles and your stubbornness and the fact that you’re a goddamn white knight in this century—” He pulled her into a kiss.

He broke it almost immediately. “I’m so sorry—”   
She put her hands on either side of his face and pulled him back. It was deep, her tongue entering his mouth and her teeth scraping against his lips.   
“I love you.” She said slowly as she finally pulled away.   
He smiled goofily at her. “Okay. I love you.”

Bean rolled her eyes. “…so about the drinking thing…”   
Pen smiled for another second before her words sunk in and he cleared his throat, straightening. “Right, your addiction. I… I know that you went to rehabilitation, and I assume you don’t want to backtrack.”   
“…no.” Bean said. “I don’t. But I drank, so…”

“Well, have you told your sponsor?” Pen asked when she trailed off into empty silence.   
Bean scoffed. “I never… got around to picking one.”   
“Okay, well… you might have to… go through some of the process again.” Pen gestured vaguely.   
Bean shrugged. “And where will you be for this?”

“I’m not leaving, if that’s what you’re asking.”   
Bean sighed. “You should. …you deserve a nice life.”   
Pen raised an eyebrow. “And you deserve to like yourself more. And Miri deserves a raise. So?”   
“I don’t want to stand in the way of you being happy!” Bean hissed.

“I can’t be happy without you.” Pen shrugged, folding his legs underneath himself. “So pushing me away to make me happy won’t work. I hated these last few days when I couldn’t even check in with you.”   
“But Thomas said…” Bean said weakly.   
“Thomas can _fuck off_.” Pen pointed out. “I don’t pretend to know what he needs, or Birdy. I know that _I_ need you though.”

Bean cracked a small smile. “It’s going to be awful.”   
“That’s never stopped me before. Look, I know it’s going to be hard for both of us, and that you’re going to struggle with addiction for your whole life. But today, you’ve made a choice. …several choices. And you may have to make them again tomorrow, and the day after that, and on and on. And you may change your mind. But at least I had this time with you when I did.”   
“You should have been a poet.” Bean’s smile grew.

“Nah, what I _should_ do is punch my brother in the fucking face for imposing himself on our relationship.” Pen said cheerfully.   
Bean laughed. “Yeah, I need to talk to him too. …you really think I can change?”   
“I think that’s up to you, but…” Pen shrugged. “It’s a process, and it’s hard, but why wouldn’t you be able to work on something like this?”

Bean lunged for him, and tackled him into a hug. “You really believe in me, huh?”   
“Of course, princess.” Pen said softly.   
She leaned her forehead against his. “I’m not a princess. I’m Bean.”   
“You’re a princess to me.” Pen said.   
She headbutted him gently. “And you’re a dork.”   
“Your dork, Bean.”

“C’mon, let’s go see what Luci and Elfo have gotten up to while we were napping.” Bean said, climbing off of him.   
“…where are my glasses?” Pen asked.   
“Oh, sorry.” Bean said, picking them up off of the bedside table, and taking an aspirin while she was there.   
“Ready to face them?” Pen asked, putting on his glasses and blinking up at her.   
“As ready as I’m going to be.” Bean muttered. “Let’s go.”

Elfo and Luci were sitting at the kitchen table.   
“Feel better after your nap?” Luci asked, sipping an unidentifiable drink. On closer inspection, he seemed to have poured a Dr Pepper in a mug, and not bothered to hide the can.   
“Yeah, actually.” Bean said. “…sorry, I know I said some rough stuff to you guys.”   
“It’s fine.” Elfo said.

“No, it’s not. We went over this.” Luci offered Elfo the mug, and retracted it when Elfo shook his head.   
Pen sat down at the kitchen table.   
“I… know I said a lot of things that were just… intended to hurt you. And I’m sorry.” Bean said. “I really am. Look, apologizing’s kind of hard.”   
“Yeah, I know. But as the only man in the room who doesn’t want to fuck you, I’m the arbiter of good apologies.” Luci poured the rest of the can into his mug.   
“I don’t want to fuck her.” Elfo muttered. Luci shot him an unidentifiable look, but otherwise didn’t comment.

“Why not just drink from the can?” Pen asked.   
“I don’t know, why don’t you just use your hand and piss off?” Luci replied.   
“Luci!” Bean hissed as Pen flushed.   
Luci stood and leaned against the counter. “You’ve changed since he came back.”

“Uh, yeah? That’s why I’m in here, apologizing for the drinking?” Bean hissed.   
Luci stared at his mug. “This isn’t about that. It… it used to just be the three of us. You’d do something wild, and I’d escalate it, and Elfo’d say there were consequences or something stupid and he’d usually be right. You don’t _need_ us anymore.”   
“Is that what this is about?” Bean asked. “You guys think I’ll replace you with Pen? That’s… Luci, you guys are always going to be my best friends. That’s… I’m sorry if I said or did anything to make you think that. I’m _sorry_. I don’t know what else to say.”

“You know it’s okay not to forgive her.” Pen said. “If you’re thinking that there’s something else she needs to say, maybe you just need time.”   
Luci threw the can at him, and Pen caught it.   
“I think he has a good point. I mean, there’s not really much else she can say.” Elfo pointed out.   
Luci glared at both of them in turn. “You’re both fucking _useless_.”   
“It’s okay to be hurt.” Bean said. “Even if it’s just you.”

“Oh, we’re all fucking wise now, huh?” Luci huffed. “’Don’t drink Dr Pepper from a mug, Luci.’ ‘It’s okay to be in touch with your feelings, Luci.’ What if we all just need to be fucking needed? Huh? I’m a demon trapped as a human, and all I want is for my friends to need me the way I need them.”   
“I need you.” Elfo said.   
Bean nodded, and somehow Luci ended up in the middle of a three-way hug, glaring at Pendergast over Bean’s shoulder.

“Yeah, whatever. Fuckers.” Luci muttered. “…by the way, there’s a group meeting on Thursdays at seven in St. Coopers. You know, if you really do want to get better.”   
“Aw, thanks, Luci.” Bean grinned.   
“Like I said, yeah, whatever. Your boytoy can drive you there. He’s the only one out of all of us that has a… well, he doesn’t have a car either, but he has a mode of transportation.”

“If it helps, I didn’t buy it. I… technically inherited it.” Pen shrugged. “It just… turned up one day.”   
“That sounds haunted, Pen.” Bean pointed out.   
Pen shrugged. “As long as Arwel doesn’t turn up with it, it serves my purposes. …I mean, I say I inherited it, but Arwel sent it here after Granddad died, and I think it’s just been… passed down. Thomas said I could have it, so I did. …why am I explaining it? ...anyway, I should probably go.”   
“You just got here!” Bean said. “And why would you go back after Thomas punched you?”

Pen grimaced, but stood up all the same. “Thomas didn’t punch me. …this time.”   
“Then who gave you that bruise on your cheek?” Bean asked.   
Pen made eye contact with Luci, who made a rude gesture. “Uh… better not say. See you tomorrow.” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek while she was still in the group hug.

Thomas wasn’t there when Pen got home, but someone else was standing outside the gate. He was about Pen’s height, but built like Thomas, with a graying beard and hair. Pen’s blood ran cold seeing him—in his memory, Arwel was so much taller and bigger, and now he just looked… tired.

“I see you got Dad’s bike.” Arwel said as Pen parked _his_ motorcycle. A wave of possessiveness rolled over him. _He_ was the one who changed its oil, who did repairs on it because it was fifty years old and really shouldn’t be road-worthy anymore.   
“Yeah.” Pen said, trying not to sound hoarse. “What’re you doing here?”   
Arwel looked thoughtful. “Came to see you, and your mum, and your siblings. Did Thomas give you that bruise?”

“No.” Pen snapped. “I think you should go.”   
Arwel shook his head. “I’ve got things to say, boy.”   
That was when Blodeuwedd ran past Pen, apparently having just gotten home from school. Swinging her backpack like a mace at Arwel, she screamed, “My name is _Blodeuwedd_! How do you do! Now you’re going to die!”   
“Is that a Johnny Cash reference?” Pen asked, moving to pull her back, because he remembered Arwel as being 10 feet tall and powerful enough to make Lynette cry, and Birdy was no match for that.

“It is—let me kill him!” Blodeuwedd hissed.   
Arwel looked taken aback. “What has your mother been telling you?”   
“No no no no, she hasn’t said anything, Pen and Tommy have been saying stuff!” Blodeuwedd growled, struggling in Pen’s arms.

“You’re going to get hurt if I let you go.” Pen said firmly.   
“Have you _seen_ my school bag? It’s like rocks. One hit and I’ll kill him.” Blodeuwedd promised.   
Pen’s grip tightened. “ _No_ , you’ll get hurt if you go near him.”

Blodeuwedd stopped struggling and looked up at her older brother, whose face was turned towards Arwel, but whose eyes were darting around, his knuckles white.   
“I came to talk to you all.” Arwel said again. “Would you let me in?”   
“Ah, no, we have an iron charm above the door to ward away evil. Even if we wanted you inside, you wouldn’t be able to get in.” Blodeuwedd said, as Pen let her out of the punishment hug. She stayed close to her older brother though.

“You know, I think you’ve taken after Lynette the most.” Arwel said. “The superstitions, and all that.”  
“Granny sent it.” Pen said softly. “After we moved here. You should leave, before Mum comes back.”   
“Yeah! It’s been fifteen years, you can’t be a father now!” Blodeuwedd growled.   
“I’m just trying to… it’s clear you both were affected by it. I’m trying to make amends.” Arwel said, just as softly as Pen.   
“We don’t have to forgive you!” Blodeuwedd hissed. “That’s the nature of an apology!”

Pen’s hand tightened around hers. 20 feet to the door, but Arwel was in the way… she could get to it if he distracted Arwel…   
That was when Lynette showed up. “Pendergast, Blodeuwedd, what are you doing in the driveway?” She asked, getting out of her car.

“Run.” Pen ground out.   
“What… oh.” Lynette crossed her arms and stared at Arwel.   
“Hello, Lyn.” Arwel said softly. “I’m here to apologize.”

“Last time you _apologized_ , we ended up with a daughter.” Lynette said tiredly.   
“Don’t drag me into this.” Blodeuwedd said, as both she and Pen made a face.   
“What’re you really doing here, Arwel?” Lynette continued. “And I have a knife on me, so don’t try anything on my children, or I’ll gouge your eyes out.”

“I… like I said, I’m here to make amends. To talk to you all. I have a new… a new relationship, and I want to be better. For her.”   
Lynette’s face turned stony.   
“What’s so special about her, anyway? Why couldn’t you change for _us_?” Blodeuwedd demanded.   
“It’s good that he’s changing at all.” Pen finally said.

Blodeuwedd glared up at him, but didn’t tear her hand away, knowing how much her brother needed the support.   
“I’m unsure why you’re here if we weren’t enough to change for in the first place.” Lynette said coldly. “Surely, you didn’t come here to be a father to two adult men and a nearly grown woman who’s never known you?”   
“Lyn, I’m not here to take your children away.” Arwel said. “But none of us are dead yet, and there’s time to fix relationships. Maybe I want to know the people they’ll become. Maybe I want to know my grandchildren.”

Lynette relaxed slightly.   
“Speaking of grandchildren, how’s that going, Pen?” Blodeuwedd asked.   
He rolled his eyes. “Shut up. …we’re back together.”   
“Hot and cold with this one.” Blodeuwedd muttered. “Weird choice for the only woman you’ve ever loved. Ever.”

“Shove off.” Pen said, because if he didn’t _look_ , it was just him talking to Birdy. “it’s not like that.”   
“It _is_ like that.” Blodeuwedd insisted. “Will we get to meet her soon, or will you break up again?”   
“Well, considering that this time was Thomas’ fault—and I’ll tell you about that later—probably not, no.”   
Lynette broke into the conversation. “Unfortunately, Arwel, it’s up to my children if they want to know you. And given that Pendergast can’t relax while looking directly at you, and Blodeuwedd has been nothing but hostile, I can’t imagine that they’ll want to.”

“I expected difficulty.” Arwel said. “I’ll be here for a few days if anyone wants to talk. Tell Thomas, would you?”   
“We don’t have to tell Thomas anything.” Blodeuwedd snapped. “C’mon, Pen, let’s go inside.”   
“We can’t leave her alone with him.” Pen hissed, planting his feet. Blodeuwedd looked up at him, taken aback by his tone.   
“Then we’ll all go into the house.” Lynette said. “And Arwel will leave.”   
“You’ll talk to Thomas?”

Lynette sighed. “Thomas has the best memory. I would prefer he not go to jail for assaulting you. He’s big, Arwel. Built just like you. He’s in the prime of his life, and if it were to come to a fight, he’d probably win. And if it looked like he was about to lose, these two would jump in and help him in an instant. So, for your sake, I won’t.”   
“Then I’ll have to come back, Lyn.” Arwel said.   
Lynette pursed her lips. “Then I’ll call the police.”

“You haven’t got a leg to stand on.”   
“No, but I have three angry children.” Lynette said coolly. “Pendergast, Blodeuwedd, inside with me. Now.”   
They followed her inside, Pen practically pushing Blodeuwedd in, before locking the door behind them.   
“Ugh, you got my hand all sweaty.” Blodeuwedd said, watching her brother. She also made a beeline for the tea towel, and made a show of wiping her hand on it.

Lynette started the kettle. “…you saw a lot more than I thought you had, machgen. I’m so sorry.”   
“It’s fine. He’s not coming back.” Pen said, his legs feeling shaky as he collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table.   
Lynette leaned over and kissed the top of his head. “Oh, my little knight… we’ll all be alright. And good on you for holding your sister back.”

“I could have taken him.” Blodeuwedd muttered.   
“No, you couldn’t have, and that’s why your brother had the right idea.” Lynette said.   
Blodeuwedd sat down next to her brother, and continued to watch him. “…Arwel really fucked you up, huh?”   
“Never touched me, I don’t deserve to be… like this.” Pen said, frustrated. “I’m not the one who… okay, yes, he did, but never the way he hurt Mum. Or Thomas. Just a few times.”   
Lynette drummed her fingers on the counter as she waited for the kettle. “Pendergast, have you ever considered therapy?”

“No, why would I need therapy? Like I said, it wasn’t that bad.” Pen huffed. “I’m just… weak.”   
“You’re an idiot.” Blodeuwedd said. “But you’re not weak.”   
“Ah, I forgot that at sixteen, you’re the wisest of us all.” Pen said drily.   
Blodeuwedd threw the towel at him. “You’re so _fucking_ stupid. I bet if someone else was showing signs of a fucking breakdown because their abusive father showed up, you wouldn’t be all, ‘oh you’re weak. RIP to you but when my abusive father shows up, I don’t react poorly’.”   
“Speaking of which, _you_ didn’t.”

“Yeah? Because I don’t remember him and only worked out that it wasn’t Thomas after a time travel accident after seeing your reaction to him.” Blodeuwedd huffed. “RIP to you, but I’m different.”   
“Don’t _meme_ on me.” Pen said, aghast. “In a fucking verbal conversation—”   
“Pendergast, language.” Lynette said, pouring out hot water into three mugs, then sliding a cup of herbal tea in front of both of her children.

“Sorry, Mum. Thanks for the tea.” Pen said.   
“Suck up.” Blodeuwedd muttered.   
Lynette sighed. “Don’t you have homework or studying or anything, young lady?”   
Blodeuwedd looked up at her innocently, widening her brown eyes. “But Mum, I can’t possibly abandon my brother when he’s like this.”

“You’re incorrigible, Blodeuwedd.” Lynette said, though she was fighting a smile.   
“I’m doing better now. How are you, Mum?” Pen asked.   
Lynette sighed. “I’m not good. I just want to gather you all under my wings, or-or maybe run again, or… just stay, and sit with me, please. Talk about anything other than… that.”   
“Oh, you’re doing the thing Pen does.” Blodeuwedd said disinterestedly. She sipped her tea and immediately burned her tongue.

“What thing?” Lynette asked.   
“The… pushing it down to deal with it later thing.” Pen said, waving a hand dismissively. “Being strong thing.”   
“Oh. Yes, I suppose I am.” Lynette sipped her own tea, and apparently did not burn her tongue. Blodeuwedd made a face at her, clearly jealous.

“You know, when Tommy and I call you a mummy’s boy, we didn’t mean, ‘inherit her coping mechanisms’.” Blodeuwedd muttered.   
Pen gave his sister a mock glare. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”   
“Incorrect! I’m hilarious—I have to be, with a name like _Blodeuwedd_.” She stuck out her tongue. “Though it’s hard to make into a mean nickname.”   
Pen muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘penis-gast’ as he sipped his tea, and Blodeuwedd nodded at him. “Exactly! Only problem is, we’re surrounded by English people, and it’s hard to make into _any_ nickname!”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true. Besides, the English are getting better about it—Saoirse, for example, is becoming more popular.” Lynette said.   
“We’re not Irish.” Blodeuwedd argued. “And it’s hard to give me a nickname that’s not just a name.”   
“Surprised they don’t call you ‘flower-face’ at school.” Pen muttered.   
Blodeuwedd threw her hands in the air. “Pen, no one’s going to put so much effort into bullying me that they read the fucking Mabinogion!”   
“Blodeuwedd, language!” Lynette said.

“It doesn’t take that much effort to Google your name.” Pen pointed out.  
“If they can spell it.” Blodeuwedd scoffed. “…most of my English friends call me Bea.”   
Lynette frowned. “You have a beautiful name, and you should be proud of it, fy nghariad aur. Don’t let them tell you any different.”   
“It’s easy for you to say.” Blodeuwedd huffed, though she seemed pleased at the nickname. “You and Thomas have normal names.”

“You have a normal name.” Pendergast pointed out.   
“Not for _Dreamland_.” Blodeuwedd threw her hands in the air. “And anyway, that’s why I started swinging at the old f… at the _creadur_ with my backpack.”   
“You did what?” Lynette asked, aghast.   
“I stopped her.” Pen said, staring into his tea. “He-he could have snapped her in half.”   
“He’s an old man!” Blodeuwedd hissed. “An old, cruel man that doesn’t matter!”

Pen closed his eyes. The man he’d seen—old, withered, almost small comparatively—didn’t measure up to the towering monster of his nightmares, but he’d be damned if he let his sister pay for that. Birdy was small, and slight, taking after Lynette in terms of stature. Arwel was like a grizzly bear in comparison. One swipe and Birdy would go flying just like… Pen opened his eyes, realizing that he was burning his hand on his mug, and that his mother and sister were silent.

“So, what did you do today?” Lynette asked softly.   
Blodeuwedd quickly took a sip of tea.   
“Went to see Bean. Had a nap while I was over there.” Pen said.   
“My God, you think that’s what sleeping with someone is, don’t you?” Blodeuwedd said.   
“I mean, she was there, and also asleep.” Pen replied.

Blodeuwedd looked at Lynette. “And I can’t even make fun of him for that.”   
“No, you can’t.” Lynette said. “And don’t think I didn’t notice your evasion. Wasn’t that biology paper due in today?”   
“It’s stupid that they gave us an assignment right after school started!” Blodeuwedd protested.   
“Birdy…” Pen groaned. “Please tell me you did it.”

Blodeuwedd smirked. “Of course I did it, I slaved over it! It was amazing, if I do say so myself.”   
“Then why are you being evasive?” Lynette raised an eyebrow.   
Blodeuwedd tried to look innocent. “Nothing.”   
“Fy nghariad aur, it’ll be better if you tell me now.” Lynette said softly.

Blodeuwedd sighed. “I may have… done a paper for a friend. But, since it was plagiarism, I may have copied a paper by the professor and turned it in under the friend’s name. Just so he’d get caught.”   
“And what if this comes back to you?” Lynette asked.   
“Why would it? Cheaters never prosper, and it will look like he’s trying to get out of it if he blames me. Plus, I turned in a sparkling paper that I wrote out all by myself.” Blodeuwedd said.

Lynette tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I don’t know what to do. It seems like I should punish you, but you haven’t done anything wrong.”   
“Is this the boy dating… someone else?” Pen asked.   
“Maybe.” Blodeuwedd said. “If he tries something, I’m going to steal her from him.”   
“You…” Lynette trailed off. “Surely, a relationship should be built on mutual love and trust rather than spite for someone else?”

Blodeuwedd shrugged. “She’s hot. And good at maths. I like her smile.”   
Pen looked confused. “But what about love?”   
“…right, forgot who I was talking to. That’s on me.” Blodeuwedd muttered. “Look, we’re all 16. No one’s meeting their soulmate now.”   
“Why would you ever have anything less?” Pen asked.

Blodeuwedd sighed. “How am I the one coming across as insane? Look, Annie can do better than him anyway.”   
“Well, I just want you to know that we love and support you, no matter what.” Lynette said. “And I’m happy that you told us.”   
Blodeuwedd shrugged, but she was fighting a smile. “Thanks. I mean, I knew you’d be okay with it, you’re okay with Thomas. Pen’s the only straight one, I think. Anyway, I’m going to be the best at bio out of spite, so I need to go study. Bye, Mum.” She kissed Lynette on the head and walked off.

“Don’t spill that in your room!” Lynette called after her. “Or no drinks up there besides water!”   
“Yes, Mum!” Blodeuwedd called back.   
“I’ll be checking!” Lynette called. “And don’t leave the mug up there!”   
“ _Yes_ , Mum!”   
“I’d better do some work as well.” Pen said. “Thanks for this, Mum.”   
“Same rules about the tea, machgen.” Lynette said.


	25. Hey it's a guest star!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please welcome Caoilfhionn Mac Murchada from Cyntax_Error's _Strange Fortune_!!!!
> 
> Also click the link Miri sent Bean it's a real link I put time into it.

The next day’s classes were specifically history, so unfortunately Pen had to wait to see Bean until after class. He did not have to wait to see Magnhild, who was outside with a woman with very long black hair.  
“You’re a lifesaver, a chuisle.” The woman with black hair cooed, kissing Magnhild on the cheek.  
“It’s just coffee.” Magnhild shrugged, though she was grinning.  
“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”  
“I don’t think that’s how you’re supposed to use that quote, min skatt.” Magnhild said.

The woman with black hair laughed. “So? It’s how I’m using it.”  
“Do you have the homework for this class?” Pen asked, clearing his throat.  
Both women turned. The one with black hair was wearing an unbuttoned men’s shirt with a lacy camisole underneath (incongruously, with bell bottoms), while Magnhild was wearing a flannel shirt rolled up to her elbows. There was a sticker on Magnhild’s shirt that was just threatening to peel off that said, ‘Be Gay, Do Crimes’.

“Oh, hi Englishman.” Magnhild said conversationally.  
“That’s… not my name.” Pen said. “That’s not even what I am.”  
The woman with black hair brightened. “You’re the one from the stories! If it didn’t work out between you and the white haired girl, I was going to recommend she date Sven for real.”  
Magnhild nodded. “If nothing else, it would be interesting.”

“…okay, first things first, hi. My name is Pendergast Griffiths.” Pen extended a hand to the black-haired woman.  
“Caoilfhionn Mac Murchada.” She handed him a business card.  
He looked at it. It had her name, and then a pronunciation of it underneath in brackets.  
He dug around his pocket and eventually pulled out one of Zog’s old cards.

“This isn’t your name.” Caoilfhionn said.  
“No, it’s my boss. I’m just a first year, I don’t have any business cards yet.”  
“Oh, I’m a first year too.” Caoilfhionn said. “First year business major.”  
Pen blinked at her. “Oh.”  
“So, if you’re not English, how come we haven’t seen you at the International Student things?” Caoilfhionn asked.

“Oh, I’m Welsh.”  
“So you _are_ English.” Magnhild said. “Wales is England to the left, yes?”  
Pen ground his teeth. “I think you’re trying to wind me up on purpose. Do you have the homework or not?”  
“No, I was actually enjoying the love of a woman, unlike you.” Magnhild said.  
She and Caoilfhionn high-fived.

Pen sighed. “ _Thanks_ , Knife Girl. See how it is when your name isn’t used?”  
“I _implore_ you to call me ‘Knife Girl’.” Magnhild said. “I want that more than I’ve ever wanted anything besides the love of min prinsesse.”  
Caoilfhionn laughed. “A chuid, you’re a terrible flirt.”  
Magnhild kissed Caoilfhionn’s hand. “Only for you.”

“We have company, behave.” Caoilfhionn said in a tone that implied she definitely didn’t want Magnhild to behave.  
“Ah, if I must.” Magnhild said. “Well, Englishman, since you won’t piss off, and you won’t call me the best nickname in the world, I suppose you want to discuss classwork.”  
“I would love to, yes.” Pen said.  
“And we will, after min prinsesse leaves, since I only have so long with her on this Earth.” Magnhild pressed a kiss to Caoilfhionn’s neck.

“You know, I call my girlfriend princess too.” Pen said.  
“You have better taste than I thought, Englishman.” Magnhild said.  
“Still not an Englishman.” Pen said.  
“Leftie?”  
“Please just call me Pen.”

“Only if you call me Knife Girl.” Magnhild said.  
Caoilfhionn wrapped her arms around Magnhild’s waist from behind. “I could call you Knife Girl, a rún mo chroí.”  
“It wouldn’t be the same.” Magnhild sighed.  
“…do you even know each other’s names?” Pen asked, handing Caoilfhionn’s business card to Magnhild.

“Of course we know each other’s names.” Magnhild huffed. “And I’ve decided that if you want to discuss homework, you should go talk to the idiot.”  
Pen grimaced. “ _Please_ don’t make me talk to Merkimer.”  
“You’re right, that’s too awful.” Magnhild said as Caoilfhionn kissed her neck. “All the same, please don’t talk to me right now. We can be friends later. Now is time for my girlfriend—I don’t bother you when you’re with yours.”  
“No, you just film it.” Pen huffed.

“That’s because of that one time your friend showed up and started talking about you two being star-crossed soulmates.” Magnhild protested.  
“He’s not my friend.” Pen corrected. “He’s Bean’s friend.”  
Caoilfhionn laughed. “You were right, these two must be fun. Anyway, I think I see your teacher coming. I’ll see you later.” She gave Magnhild another kiss, then left. 

Somehow, Pen ended up between Magnhild and Merkimer, and they were clearly banking on him to answer for the table. He needed new friends. After all the classes for the day, he sent a quick text to Bean, and headed towards _The Jittery_ for a pick-me-up. Unfortunately, Caoilfhionn was already there, arguing with Miri.

“—the only valid straight man I’ve ever met.” Caoilfhionn said.  
“I know that! But I have dibs on his friendship, I’ve been his friend for fifteen years!” Miri shot back. “Also, he’s a huge nerd. You two criminals don’t want anything to do with him.”  
Caoilfhionn pressed her hand to her chest. “ _Criminals_? That’s a bit much, Miri.”  
“Whatever, you know what I mean.”

“If punching fascists is wrong, I don’t want to be right.”  
“Okay, now you’re trying to make me sound like the bad guy.” Miri scoffed, before finally noticing Pen. “Oh shit, there you are.”  
“Uh… hi.” Pen said. “Who are you talking about?”

“You, obviously.” Caoilfhionn said. “Miri and I have a bet going—”  
“It’s not a bet, it’s a turf war.” Miri interrupted, crossing her arms.  
Caoilfhionn inclined her head in acknowledgment. “I _guess_ , if you want to call it that. We’re both trying to become the next manager, since the position is up for grabs.”  
“Where do I come into this?” Pen was almost sure he should run and forget the drinks. Except Zog would want his coffee, and Bean would want hot chocolate, and Pen wanted to reward himself with the stupid apple tea.

Caoilfhionn brightened. “Well, you’re a token straight friend. I didn’t know Miri knew you, but now she’s insisting that you can either be friends with us, or her and Emily.”  
Miri scoffed. “This isn’t me being an asshole. I know his entire social circle. This man doesn’t make friends easily, I have to set up playdates for him.”  
“Well, I mean, I set up the DnD times and now they’re kind of static.” Pen pointed out.

Miri crackled her knuckles. “I introduced you to Emily.”  
“Well, I mean, we were both there when you introduced _yourself_ to Emily.”  
“I introduced you to the nerds.”  
“Debatable, but I guess?”  
“I introduced you to Bean.” Miri finished.

“I introduced myself.”  
“I instrumented it.” Miri corrected.  
“You _planned_ this?” Caoilfhionn asked. “Including the part with Sven?”  
“No, that was—that was Magnhild.” Pen interrupted. “Miri, I can have more than one pair of lesbian friends.”  
“Actually, Magnhild and I are bi.” Caoilfhionn said, as Miri busied herself making the apple tea.

“And I’ve known him since we were seven. He’s not interested in joining your posse.” MIri said.  
Caoilfhionn shrugged. “I don’t know. Pendergast, how do you feel about punching fascists?”  
“Uh… pro?” Pen said. “And a hot chocolate and a latte too please, Miri. To go.”  
“Oh, you’re back together?” Miri said. “That’s nice.”

“How can you tell that from a drink order?” Caoilfhionn asked.  
“Because she drinks hot chocolate.” Miri said. “Pen always has apple tea. Also, Pen, the one time we got arrested, you cried.”  
“I _need_ to hear this story.” Caoilfhionn said.  
Pen flushed. “I… your dad was really getting to me. I didn’t want to disappoint him.”

“You would make a terrible criminal if the first police officer you see can get you to drop a spray can.” Miri huffed.  
“He said I was like a son to him, Miri.” Pen said. “And that he knew I was good at heart, and I had disappointed him!”  
Miri looked unamused. “This is really the person you want in your revolution, Caoilfhionn?”

“I think it’s sweet.” Caoilfhionn said.  
Miri leaned against the counter. “Yeah, it’s real sweet, until you realize my father had always thought we were going to get together.”  
Both Pen and Miri grimaced at the same time.  
“That’d be like dating my sister.” Pen shuddered.

“This is a strictly ‘no childhood friends to lovers’ zone.” Miri agreed. “Even if I _were_ interested in men, it’d be weird. I remember you proudly showing off your first bit of stubble.”  
“I remember you throwing up because you were too nervous to talk to a girl.” Pen shot back. “I had to tell the teacher it was food poisoning.”  
Caoilfhionn laughed. “You know, I don’t think that’s how the trope is supposed to work.”  
“I mean, it’d probably work, if I wasn’t me and he wasn’t him.” Miri agreed, sliding an apple tea to Pendergast. “Or if I didn’t have to have gym class with him for over ten years. Nothing like seeing pasty white boys run after a football to make me realize I was gay.”

“You are a font of kindness and wisdom.” Pen huffed. “Can I have a cupholder?”  
“Only if you say I’m your best friend forever and ever, no takebacks.” Miri replied.  
“You are _so_ petty.” Caoilfhionn said. “Give the man a cupholder.”  
“You’re not the boss of me yet.” Miri shrugged. “Maybe you never will be.” 

“…that’s a fucking power move, I respect that.” Caoilfhionn said. “But you definitely won’t become manager if you withhold cupholders from customers.”  
“It’s just Pen.”  
“I still have rights.” Pen pointed out.  
“Then choose.” Miri said.

“This is a lot of pressure. Please just give me the drinks in exchange for money, as usual.” Pen said. “You’re both very nice.”  
“Aw, thank you.” Caoilfhionn said.  
“No no no, no centrism.” Miri said. “Choose.”  
“Please don’t do this.” Pen said.

“It shouldn’t be that hard! Your oldest and dearest friend versus this woman you _just_ met!” Miri threw her hands in the air.  
“Please just give me my drinks, I don’t want to get into this.” Pen said. “Why can’t I be friends with both of you?”  
“Exactly, he says my name correctly. I’ve never met another English man who does.” Caoilfhionn said.

“I changed my mind, I’m only Miri’s friend now.” Pen deadpanned.  
“Ha! Hi roes Cymru!” Miri crowed.  
Caoilfhionn looked interested. “I didn’t know you were Welsh too.”  
“I’m not, his older brother taught me that.” Miri said.

“ _Please_ may I have my drinks?” Pen asked.  
“Of course. And don’t worry, you’ll be our token straight friend one day.” Caoilfhionn said.  
“That’s… ominous, thank you.” Pen said. “How much do I owe you?”  
“Seven pounds.” Miri said.

Pen handed her the money, fit the takeaway cups into the cupholder, and promptly realized he had a motorcycle. “…fuck. Wait, okay, I can do this.”  
“You should put a basket on it like a little old lady’s bicycle.” Miri suggested.  
“I know you’re mocking me, but you have a point.” Pen replied. “Good luck, both of you, regarding the managerial position.”

Miri shrugged, then said, “Hey, c’mere.”  
Pen came over, and Miri punched him in the shoulder.  
“Ow? Why?” Pen replied.  
“Because I had to hear about the King of the Assholes from Birdy.” Miri said. “Also, I’m going to find out your girlfriend’s number and tell her you had a breakdown because she deserves better than you being on edge without explaining why.”

“You know, if this is how you show affection, you must really love me.” Caoilfhionn said. “Should your girlfriend be worried?”  
“What Emily and I have is incredibly strong.” Miri said. “It feels like it stretches back and back through the ages, that I am always hers and she mine.”  
“You too?” Pen blurted out.

Miri shot him an unimpressed look. “Your coffee’s going to get cold.”  
Pen nodded, and took it out.  
“Now, if he’s smart, he’s going to put the tea in the middle so that the coffee and hot chocolate counterbalance each other.” Caoilfhionn said.  
“This man has never been smart in his life.” Miri said. “…can your Viking get me his girlfriend’s number?”  
“Will you cover my Sunday shift?”

“Ah yes, I forgot that you need that time to forge a spear while everyone is at Mass to kill the king.” Miri said.  
Caoilfhionn blinked at her. “What?”  
“…I know too much about Welsh mythology, thanks to Pen and his sister being interested in it.” Miri admitted. “It’s a… there’s a figure, Llew Llaw Gyffes, who can only die under certain conditions. One of them is an unlawful weapon—a spear forged for a year during time when everyone else is at Mass.”  
“That’s so specific.” Caoilfhionn said. “…though I think Magnhild would love a weapon she could consider ‘unlawful’.”

Magnhild leaned on the counter. “And… there he is, putting the hot chocolate in the middle, believing he’ll protect it.”  
Caoilfhionn mimicked her. “Wow. You can’t say he doesn’t love her.”  
“Nope.” Miri said. “He’s… he’s got high intelligence, low wisdom. Dumb as a fucking rock.”  
Caoilfhionn grinned. “I thought you said Dungeons and Dragons was, and I quote ‘for nerds’.”

“It is. I let the nerds into my home because it makes Emily happy playing with them.” Miri said.  
“…can Magnhild and I join?”  
“The Dungeon Master is the man out there trying to start the oldest motorcycle in the world with a cardboard cupholder perilously balanced on his lap. If he fails, he won’t have to worry about getting laid ever again ‘cause he’ll have burned his dick off. Do you really _want_ to join?” Miri asked.

“Yes.” Caoilfhionn said.  
Miri sighed. “I’ll ask. I still need that number though.”  
Five minutes later, through a series of requests, Miri texted Bean.

_(Unknown Number) 3:22pm  
Hi its Miri from th Jittry _

_(Unknown Number) 3:23pm  
Jst lttin yo know Pn had a brakdown last niht _

_(Pn’s irlfrind) 3:24pm  
Wht?? Is he ok? _

_(Pn’s irlfrind) 3:25pm  
Also?? Is ur phone ok? _

_(Unknown Number) 3:25pm  
Yah _

_(Unknown Number) 3:26pm  
To bbbbbbbbbboth. _

_(Unknown Number) 3:27pm  
Sorry sticky kys som don’t work, som don’t work another way _

_(Pn’s irlfrind) 3:27pm  
Yikes poor u. Can u giv me dtls on Pen? _

_(Unknown Number) 3:28pm  
Jst psh him he’ll vntally talk _

_(Unknown Number) 3:29pm  
Oh also Bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbirdy mad you somthin _

_(Pn’s irlfrind) 3:30pm  
Aw, his lttl sis? That’s so cte! _

_(Unknown Number) 3:31pm  
Lss ct than yo think more fn than yo think _

_(Unknown Number) 3:31pm  
_ [ _https://tinyurl.com/ulf79fd_ ](https://tinyurl.com/ulf79fd)

That was when Bean heard the downstairs door open. Abandoning her phone on that bed, she went to the stairs overlooking the hallway.  
“Hi.” She grinned at Pen.  
“Hi.” He said back. “God, I missed you.”

“And I missed my coffee, butcha don’t see me starin’ at it like we’re in one’a those old movies you like.” Zog commented. “And hear I thought my daughta wanted t’spend time with her dear old Dad, and that she didn’t like ya.”  
Pen flushed. “Things change.”  
“Over a weekend?” Zog scoffed. “Wish things’d changed like that for me when I was yer age. Anyway, Beanie, I need Pen today. I’m not payin’ him to fuck ya.”  
“ _Dad_!” Bean hissed, because Pen’s blush had deepened and he seemed unable to speak.

“What? S’true. You can drink yer hot chocolate in the office, gotta talk to Pen.” Zog made a motion, and Pen followed loyally, still holding the cupholder, miraculously unspilled.  
Bean followed as well, sitting on the floor cross-legged when Pen took the other chair—did he always sit there? Pen passed out the drinks, and settled himself.

“Okay, first order a’ business, my mom’s comin’ into town.” Zog said. “She’s bringin’ a new ah… ‘gentleman friend’.”  
Bean grimaced. “I didn’t know Beebaw _dates_.”  
“Neither did I, but don’t say that to her.” Zog ordered.

“Do you need me to book tickets?” Pen asked.  
“Nah, she’s already got ‘em booked. They’re stayin’ here as well, I jus’ need someone to pick them up from the airport, maybe keep ‘em amused. I don’t know. You’re old at heart, Pen. What do old people like?”  
Pen paused. “…Werther’s Originals?”

“Yeah, get some a’ those.” Zog agreed. “Anythin’ else?”  
“Uh… documentaries about World War Two?” Pen tried, before looking at Bean.  
“Reminiscing _about_ World War Two?” Bean added. “Oh, they like beige! And carpets!”  
“And giving their grandchildren food.” Pen continued.

“Well, Ma’s only got Beanie and Derek since my brother Yog went into witness protection twelve years ago.” Zog said.  
“What?” Pen said.  
“Yeah, I thought Uncle Yog was killed in a hit by the mafia.” Bean added.  
“ _What_?” Pen repeated.

“Anyway, she’ll be here for a few days. Obviously, I’m gonna show off my stupid children—no offense, Beanie—but what about when they’re doin’ school stuff? Can ya handle my ma and her… friend?” Zog shuddered at the last word.  
“I can help!” Bean said.  
“I mean, ya will.” Zog replied.  
“No, I mean, I can help show her around the castle and stuff. Tourism stuff in Dreamland.” Bean said.

“Not a bad idea. Small talk’s not Pen’s strong suit, but Ma might be the only other person in the world who remembers ‘Brigadoon’.” Zog said. “Oh, and Pen? Can ya go pick her up at the airport?”  
Pen looked up from his laptop. “Uh… on… my motorcycle?”  
“Nah, ya can take my cah. Not like it’s gettin’ much protection in the garage.” Zog directed this last part at Bean, who grimaced.

“…are you going to make me pretend I’m your chauffeur again?” Pen asked warily.  
“ _Again_? What happened the first time?” Bean asked.  
“Well, the first time, I was privy to the end of your father’s second marriage and it was _very_ awkward.”  
“Ya tried to jump outta the car.” Zog agreed. “Doesn’t work if yer the driver, Pen.”

“The second time was something about ‘impressing ex-wives’ at a University Function…” Pen said, glancing at Zog. “Both times, I had to wear that _stupid_ uniform…”  
“That was you?” Bean asked, eyes wide. “Shit. Sorry I spilled my drink on you.”  
“That was _you_?” Pen repeated. “…why were you wearing that awful wig?”

“What?” Zog said.  
Pen stiffened. “Nothing, sir.”  
“I’m not gonna look into that right now. Anyway, what’s wrong with the chauffeur thing?”  
“It’s demeaning.”  
“Gast, you’re the only man I know who can look at a fitted suit and find it ‘demeaning’.” Zog scoffed.

“Wait, fitted suit?” Bean said.  
Pen buried his face in his hands.  
“Well, I’m not gonna have my chauffeur lookin’ like shit.” Zog scoffed.  
“I thought you were a cheapskate.” Bean crossed her arms.

“Eh, someone owed me a favor.” Zog said. “I don’t need a suit, but I thought I might as well get a chauffeur outfit outta it. More prestige, y’know?”  
“It doesn’t count if it’s just your PA.” Bean pointed out.  
“Thanks for that.” Pen said somewhat sarcastically. Bean leaned her head on his knee.

“It’s not even that bad. …you should probably go check it out, make sure no moths got to it.” Zog recommended. “It’s in the linen cupboard.”  
“Including the hat?” Pen sighed.  
“Yep.” Zog said.

“Can I go too? To check if there are any holes?” Bean said innocently.  
“Be back in ten minutes, or I’ll assume you two are checkin’ fer the wrong kinda holes.” Zog scoffed.  
Pen flushed, and left his drink behind before going to the linen cupboard. Bean followed.

“Are you going to spill your drink on me again?” Pen asked.  
“Nah, it just gives me something to do while you’re changing. Unless you want me to watch?” Bean grinned at him.  
Pen’s eyes went wide. “That would be very forward of me and…”  
Bean kissed his cheek. “Relax. I’ll wait outside the bathroom.”

Pen emerged a few minutes later in a charcoal grey wool suit, adjusting the accompanying tie. True to Zog’s word, it was actually pretty well-fitted.  
“I didn’t see any holes when I was putting it on, can you check?” Pen said, slowly turning. Bean was absolutely not looking for holes, but didn’t see any anyway so it was fine. “Uh huh… mm… no, yeah, you’re good.”

Pen turned back to face her and she gently placed the hat on his head.  
“There goes my excuse… How bad is it?” Pen sighed.  
Bean’s response was to grab his tie and pull him into a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you click the link? (Click it click it)
> 
> Anyway, if you haven't already, go read _Strange Fortune_ by Cyntax_Error, especially if you loved this Caoilfhionn content. Go read it again, even if you have.
> 
> To translate for Magnhild and Caoilfhionn:  
> A chuisle: my pulse  
> Min skatt: my treasure  
> Min prinsesse: my princess  
> A chuid: my portion, my share  
> A run mo chroi: My heart's darling
> 
> Caoilfhionn's are from here: https://omniglot.com/language/endearment/irish.htm


	26. Meet Cute 2: the Cutening

About a year before, Pen Griffiths was leaning up against his boss’s car, texting his best friend. He couldn’t help feeling like he was being punished for something, though he wasn’t very sure what. He didn’t even want to _be_ at the party that he was playing chauffeur for, but it seemed like it’d be warmer, at least.

He looked up from his phone at the sound of footsteps on the pavement. A woman with dark hair teetered towards him—he managed to catch her before she hit the pavement. Unfortunately, she spilled her drink all over him.

“Hey, I was going to drink that.” She huffed, looking up at him.   
He swallowed—she looked like she was about his age, maybe a little younger, and even if they were clouded with alcohol, those big blue eyes of hers were drawing him in. “Well, I was going to wear this, so we’re even.” He finally said, more sarcastic than originally intended.   
She frowned at him, pulling away and righting herself. “What are you doing out here?”

He tapped the car, and then crossed his arms, leaning back against it. “I could ask you the same thing.”   
She adjusted her _hair_ —and he realized it was a wig. A poorly made, cheap wig, at that. “Someone tried to hit on me.”   
“So you decided that I was a better option?”

“Didn’t think anyone was out here. Besides, he-he was _old_. Like my Dad’s age. You’re not.” She made a face.   
“What are you doing here anyway? At the party, I mean?” Pen asked.   
She looked a bit sheepish. “Well, I’m not supposed to be here. I mean, I am, but I said I wasn’t coming, so… I’m really just here for free drinks.”

“Are you even old enough to drink?” Pen scoffed.   
“Of course I am!” The woman glared at him. “The car’s not goin’ anywhere, why’re _you_ out here?”   
“I’m just the help.” Pen replied. “And I don’t drink anyway, so free drinks won’t entice me in.”   
The woman squinted at him. “You look familiar.”

“Yeah? So do you.” He replied, before snapping his fingers. “Tiabeanie the First!”   
“What.” The woman replied, scowling and crossing her arms.   
“You’re a… well, you’re brunette, but you look like a portrait of a Queen of Maru. Especially like that.” Pen gestured to her posture.   
“Some portrait.” The woman scoffed, but she relaxed. “…I know the one you mean.”

“You don’t seem that drunk, by the way.” Pen said slowly.   
The woman cackled. “I’m tipsy.”   
“Then your purpose here is done, right?”   
“Maybe I’m sticking around for you.”

He flushed. “I, um… what?”   
She shrugged. “Well, you’re less annoying than anyone in there.”   
“…okay, I’m still not sure if you’re a call girl at this point, so I’m just going to say I have absolutely no money on me.”   
She frowned again. “I’m not a call girl.”

“I… okay. Sorry.” Pen tried to stealthily text Miri, ‘how do I talk to girls’. Autocorrect was the only thing that saved him. “So who are you here with?”   
“I’m not here with anyone.” She still looked irate.   
“…so what are you doing at a function recognizing donators to a new building for the University history department?” Pen asked.

“Crashing.” The woman admitted. “Mostly ‘cause I didn’t want to go with my… with my parents, but… I still wanted the thrill of crashing. God, you must think I’m a huge nerd.”   
“I mean, I’ve never crashed a party.” Pen admitted back. “I’m an even bigger nerd by your estimation.”   
The woman laughed. “So why not go inside? No one’s going to mind.”

Pen frowned. “Does that count as crashing?”   
“Probably does to you.”   
“Point. …I don’t actually want to hobnob with the rich and wealthy of Dreamland.”

She looked up at him. “Oh? And why not?”   
“’Cause I’ve found someone better to hang out with.”   
Miri chose that moment to text back, and Pen sighed.

“Your phone?” The woman made a face at him. “C’mon, I could take you to a real party.”   
“What if I don’t want to abandon my post and go to a real party?” He feigned being aloof. “What if I just want to stay here with—”   
“GAST! START THE CAR, THE EX-WIVES ARE CONVERGIN’!” Zog bellowed. Pen looked up, and the woman chose that moment to run.

“Wait--!” Pen called after her, but she was already gone.   
Zog barreled towards him. “Car, Gast, now!”   
Pen quickly slid into the driver’s seat and started the ignition. The car squealed away—at the maximum the safety limit would allow.   
“What happened?” Pen asked.

“Despite my best efforts, Oona started talkin’ t’Dagmar.” Zog shuddered. “And Dagmar’s creepy siblin’s were there. Oh it was awful. Thank _God_ my daughta didn’t come and add to the mess.”   
“Mm.” Pen said.   
“Why do I smell alcohol, Gast?”   
“Woman spilled her drink on me.”

“Outside? Are you unlucky.” Zog snorted. “But hey, we’re both unlucky with women, eh?”   
Pen sighed. Later that night, he’d get home and open the text from Miri to find it was just her laughing at him.

But that was a year previously. In the time when our story was set, Bean pulled back, and said, “I love the uniform, Pen.”   
He blinked at her. “Wait, what? …wait, were you _flirting_ with me a year ago?”   
“You just figured it out?” She stared at him. “Oh my God, you legitimately thought I was a call girl, didn’t you? That wasn’t just some stupid joke?”

He looked away, but the blush creeping up his neck was a telltale sign.   
“Oh my God, Pen. …you’re lucky you’re cute.” Bean finally said.   
“Not that there’s anything _wrong_ with being a sex worker!” Pen said quickly. “I just… women don’t really like me, so I assumed there was an ulterior motive.”   
Bean punched him in the shoulder. “Do you think I have an ulterior motive?”   
“Ow. I did? Isn’t this what this conversation is about?” Pen asked.

“No, I mean now, doofus.”   
“ _Oh_. No, I don’t. I mean, I partially thought it because you were at a fancy party in a really cheap wig.” Pen explained. “I met you as… _you_ in a coffee shop. And unless you wanted my apple tea… which is probably cold now, by the way… there was no… ulterior motive, if that makes sense?”

“I guess.” Bean muttered. “…not like you were the only guy there to say it. At least you didn’t ask how much I was.”   
Pen visibly cringed. “What… did you say to that?”   
“Oh, that’s when I ran and found you outside.” Bean replied off-handedly, though she shuddered as well. “It all comes full circle.”

“You better be fuckin’ dressed, Gast! And woe betide ya both if my daughta’s not dressed!” Zog finally shouted, leaving his office.   
“We’re dressed, Dad.”   
“I look like Grand Moff Tarkin.” Pen muttered to himself.

“No one knows who that is, Gast.” Zog said. “Now come on back and call Oona for me so that Ma doesn’t complain about not seein’ half her grandkids.”   
“Do I have to call Ursula as well?” Pen sighed.   
“Nah, that’s awkward for ev’rybody.” Zog replied. “Hey, think of it this way—Oona and Dagmar didn’t meet Ma until after we got married. This is a good sign, right? Introducin’ your significant other to yer parents?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Bean pointed out. “…kinda don’t want him to meet Mom, she’d try and scare him off.”   
Pen followed her back to Zog’s office, and Zog followed them.   
“I wouldn’t be scared off by your mother.” Pen said.   
Zog coughed out a laugh. “Yeah, but you’d be scared off by _Dagmar_. You remember the stories I told ya about her.”

Bean shot her father a wary look, well aware she’d also been the subject of ‘stories’, then looked at Pen. “Hey, I haven’t met _your_ mom. Are you scared of her?”   
Pen blinked. “What? No. My mother’s great. She’s a very kind, welcoming woman. I’m sure she’d love to meet you.”   
Zog sat down at his desk. “Okay, for some stupid reason, I almost asked you two for advice instead of the other way around. Sit, take notes if you want, I’ve got some wisdom t’share.”

Pen and Bean didn’t sit, but they did turn their full attention to Zog.   
“Now, first things first—if you get your girlfriend pregnant, you’re not obligated to marry her.”   
“I would _never_ abandon—” Pen began.   
“Atatatata, I’m not done.” Zog huffed. “I’m not sayin’ abandon the kid. I’m not even sayin’ break up. But here’s the thing—a child doesn’t mean the two of ya gotta be together as people. It might not be for the best, and stayin’ together for the kid’s only gonna fuck ‘em up.”

Bean crossed her arms, but didn’t say anything.   
“Second, consider if botha ya are ready for a baby anyway. There’d be other options, and it’s okay if yer not. Hell, I kinda think I’m _still_ not ready, though I missed the boat on _that_ one about twenty years ago.” Zog continued. He looked at Bean. “Sorry, Beanie.”   
“Eh, it’s fine.” She uncrossed her arms though, and seemed a bit happier.

“Third, marry yer best friend.”   
“My best friend is a lesbian.” Pen pointed out.   
Zog rolled his eyes. “I’m not sayin’ break up with my daughta t’chase someone who doesn’t wantcha. I’m sayin’, get close enough to be each other’s best friends.”   
Bean took Pen’s hand, and squeezed. He squeezed back.   
“That’s… weirdly good advice. Thanks, Dad.” Bean said.   
Zog waved his hand. “Eh, took _me_ long enough t’learn it. What’s the point’a havin’ kids if yer not gonna pass down yer wisdom?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a double update so make sure you read the next chapter as well.


	27. The bed is from Orgy Grandpa it's a straight up Alaska king

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there is a sex scene: if that makes you uncomfortable, skip from 'Shut the door if we're back to _princess, sir_.' to "Is that alright?" from Pendergast.

Pen dreamed that night.

He dreamed he was walking down a stone corridor, papers clutched tightly in his hands. He could hear Bean laughing from somewhere, and he looked at the floor. His teeth hurt, and he unclenched his jaw.   
…had they fought? He couldn’t remember. Why would they fight? What happened?

He turned a corner, and opened the door, and Bean smiled up at him. She was sitting on his desk, legs crossed. The cat and the elf were on the floor, thankfully not holding any important papers.   
“Well, have fun with your _husband_.” The cat cackled, before scampering out of the room. Pendergast shot the elf a Look, and he quickly left as well.

“Thank God, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” Bean said, uncrossing her legs and beginning to swing them.   
“What are you doing in here?” Pendergast asked.   
Bean frowned at him. “Like I said, I wanna talk.”   
“There is nothing to talk about.”

“Um, yeah, there is. …if I’ve done something wrong, you should tell me.”   
“You haven’t done anything wrong.” Pendergast said quickly. “I am the one who should apologize.”   
“For ignoring me.” Bean agreed.   
“I was… trying to give you back your own space. Since I’ve gotten you in this situation, and now you’re… tied to a man you don’t want.” Pendergast gestured vaguely.

She stared at him. “Is that why you’ve basically been sleeping in here?”   
He flushed. “That, and I’m suddenly responsible for so many people’s livelihoods… there is a _lot_ of math to do.”   
Bean laughed. “Well, yeah, fair, but why not ask for help? I’ve been getting to know the people around here. They’re pretty alright.”   
“I don’t know them.”

“I meant from me, dork. You handle the paperwork, I’ll handle the people.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, before biting her lip. “Look, I’m sorry you’re here. I get it, you don’t want kids, and what we had was casual, but… I don’t know. We can leave before the end of the year if you want. It’s not an honor thing, you don’t have to stay.”   
Pendergast looked like you could knock him over with a feather. “Do you think so little of me?”

She glared at him. “Look, I’m just trying to say that this doesn’t have to turn into a _thing_ if you don’t want it to. I know you’re all honorable, or whatever, but I’m… releasing you.”   
Pendergast blinked. “I… it’s not… is that what _you_ want?”   
She narrowed her eyes. “Why does it matter? You clearly don’t want anything to do with me!”

She jumped off of his desk, and went to move past him. He caught her wrist, firm but gentle. “I never said that.”   
Bean pulled away. “You don’t have to, dickface! I can take a fucking hint! You clearly don’t want to be around me, or the baby!”   
“I was giving you _space_ , because you dislike change at the best of times, and you can be… mercurial when it comes to me.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I got you into this situation, and I understand completely if you hate me.”

She stared at him. “Wait, wait, you’re… sorry, and that’s why you’ve been making it worse instead of just talking to me like a normal person.”   
Pendergast crossed his arms. “Well, I was… you accused me of only wanting something _casual_!”   
She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? After you practically ran the other way every time you saw me over the last week? What the hell was I supposed to think, you moron?”

“There is no need for name calling!” Pendergast snapped. “I… I have never wanted anything other than… well, this, I suppose. But not like this, I wanted to _ask_ , and for you to say yes. I didn’t want you to be forced into it.”   
Bean stepped closer. “You are _such_ an idiot. But you’re my idiot. You think if I didn’t want to be here, I still would? How’d you keep me here, huh? With what army, especially when you’re practically diving to the floor to avoid eye contact with me?”

“I dishonored you, and now…” Pendergast looked at her abdomen.   
Bean rolled her eyes. “I’m not here because of the baby. And I don’t plan on dying, Pen, before you get started on that.”   
“I… even if I were to do the unthinkable and leave you—which I don’t want to!—you would still have…” Pendergast gestured to her abdomen, before looking away, blushing.   
Bean crossed her arms. “Okay. You know damn well I’m good at getting myself out of situations I don’t want to be in by now.”

“This isn’t your usual kind of adventure.”   
“Good, I was getting bored of those. This is a new one. But I want to be with you. Not because of the baby, not because my dad said so—I want to be with you because you’re cute, and you make me smile, and I like having sex with you.”   
He stared at her, before slowly smiling. “I love you too.”

She flushed. “I didn’t say that.”   
He kissed the top of her head. “You didn’t have to. You never have to, if you don’t want to. What you just said is enough for me—thank you.”   
She wrapped her arms around his waist. “You’re such a dork.” She mumbled into his chest.   
“Your dork, princess.”

“Oh, we’re back to _princess_ now?” She pulled away, smirking at him.   
“That’s what you are, isn’t it?” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.   
Bean laughed. “That’s not what I meant. Shut the door if we’re back to _princess_ , _sir_.”

He did, while she hopped back up onto his desk. He went to kneel in front of her, but she grabbed a handful of his hair, jerking his head up to make eye contact with her.   
“Nuh uh uh, I don’t want to wait.” She told him.   
“…won’t it…? Aren’t you…?”

“Dry? No, I’m not.” She said with a grin. “I came prepared.”   
“I’m sure you did.” He purred, moving a hand down, beneath her clothes, to check. She was absolutely right, and he slid his wet fingers into his mouth. She grinned, before unlacing both of their breeches and freeing them. He pulled her to him gently, and she wrapped her legs around him—much more firmly. She didn’t release her hold on his hair, though she moved to bite him hard on the neck.   
He groaned in pleasure, pushing down into her. He moved slowly, but each thrust went as deep as possible.

“God—fuck—yes—I missed this.” She breathed, before biting again.   
“I can tell.” He said drily. “Usually, you save your mouth for screaming.”

She made a face at him, before he bit her neck. She gasped, and tightened around him, causing him to move faster.   
“Good girl.” He said appreciatively. “Should I put your legs up?”   
She grabbed at him, biting into his shoulder as her nails scratched his back. “I’m— _oh_. I’m not a good girl, Pen.”   
“You feel so _good_ though, princess.” He thrust hard and fast.   
She bit harder.

He pulled back, trying to keep their hips together, and she pouted. “Come back, I wasn’t— _fuck_ —I wasn’t done with you yet.”   
“I’m sure you weren’t.” He said, before smirking. “But you’re going to make a mess, princess.”   
She pouted. “It’s not like I’ve even drawn blood.”   
“You sure about that? Well, I’ve got to keep your wicked mouth away from me anyway.” He managed to bite out, before concentrating entirely on thrusting hard, fast, and deep.

She gripped the desk edge. “Don’t you _dare_ stop.”   
“I have no intention of _stopping_.” He snorted. In one fluid movement, he picked her up and flipped her onto her stomach, kneeing her legs apart.   
“May I, princess?” He purred, leaning close.   
She gripped the other side of the desk. “Fuck yes.”

He entered her again, and again, and again.   
“Don’t-don’t you _dare_ stop!” She bit out. “God, that feels good!”   
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” He purred, before leaning forward to have a hand snake up and squeeze her breast, before dipping down to rub her clit while he continued to fuck her.   
Her legs trembled, and he moved his hand back to help support her.

“Nrgh, were you always this good at this?” She panted out, trying to keep from getting too loud. He moved faster and faster. “Agh, _Pen_! Yes, yes, yes, _yes_!”  
“You tell me.” He returned to the deep, slow thrusts, panting.   
He finally pulled away from her, and she twisted back around to see him. “Did you cum in me?”

“Well, I figured it was no longer a problem.” He said, fixing his breeches, before he looked up at her, almost shy. “Is that alright?”   
She grinned at him. “Yeah. I can’t get _more_ pregnant. So, now you’re going to stop being stupid and share that stupid huge bed with me, right?”   
“How big can it be?” Pendergast asked.

Bean pulled up her pants and hopped off the desk. “I’ll show you.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room, past a cackling Luci.   
Pendergast turned red, and fixed his eye on his wife. She led him down the hall, and threw open the door. It was legitimately a huge bed, (some distant part of Pendergast’s mind wondered if it was an Alaska King bed, but he had no idea what an _Alaska_ was) with a red velvet canopy around it.   
“Comfortable.” Pendergast commented, seeing moth-eaten tapestries on the walls, and a soft carpet on the floor. A wardrobe had been thrown open, and there was a dirty window overlooking the settlement.

Bean grimaced. “It’s a _nightmare_ being in it alone. I’m surrounded by bed for _miles_.”   
Pendergast cracked a smile. “Poor you.”   
“Yeah, poor me, it’d probably be nicer with someone.” She laced her fingers with his.   
“Is that an admission of love, princess?”

“Ha, as if. You got all you’re going to get.” She scoffed, but she didn’t let go of his hand.   
He squeezed, and she squeezed back.   
“Alright.” He said quietly. “Like I said, you don’t need to say it. You never need to say it, especially if it isn’t true. But I love you, and this—even if it’s all… not the way I expected… is all I ever wanted. I just want you.”   
“Sap.” She huffed, but she smiled all the same. “We’re married, you’re allowed to want more.”

He crossed his arms, but grinned. “Last time I asked you what our relationship is, you said that we weren’t courting, and sent me off to get you another drink.”   
She threw her arms wide. “Does it look like there’s anything to drink around here? I brought you here because… it sucks. Being alone. And I like being with you.”

He leaned her forehead against hers. “And you’re used to cuddling after sex, aren’t you?”   
“As if you’re not!”   
He swung her up into bridal style. “Alright, you insatiable minx.”   
She buried her face in the crook of his neck, and put an arm around the back of his neck to steady herself. “Jerkface.”   
Pendergast laughed. “Princess.”

In the 21st Century, Pen jerked awake. He checked his pants, grimaced, and slipped out of bed to get a change of clothes. After fixing himself, and burying the dirty clothes under more innocent ones in the hamper, he grabbed his phone.

Across town, Bean, who had been trying to get back to sleep and generally enjoy the post-sex haze from the dream, got a text. She cracked an eye open, and grabbed her phone from her bedside table.

_2:11am  
Sir Pendergast: What are we? _

Bean stared at the text message for a minute, utterly mystified by its meaning in her sleepy state.

_2:13am  
Princess: Bean and Pen? R u ok? _

_2:14am  
Sir Pendergast: No. I meant, what are we to each other? _

_2;15am  
Princess: Soulmates? Ansr th qstion _

_2:17am  
Sir Pendergast: In terms of our relationship. What are we? What would we be without these dreams? Can I even call you my girlfriend? Or is it bleed through from Him? _

_2:18am  
Princess: IDK it’s 2 erly 4 this _

_2:18am  
Princess: Y does it mttr? _

_2:19am  
Sir Pendergast: I love you, and I don’t think I can stop. But I just want to know if you love me back. _

_2:20am  
Princess: Sure ILY go back 2 slp _

_2:20am  
Sir Pendergast: Bean. Are you my girlfriend? _

_2:21am  
Princess: Feelngs r hrd. : ( I GUESS bc soulmates is weird enuf. _

_2:23am  
Princess: IDK!!! U kno my dad! U dnt want 2 kno my mom. I GUESS if I had 2 mrry N E 1 Id mrry u n I prbbly will so?? Isnt that enuf?? _

_2:24am  
Princess: I mean I don’t evn kno if it is just Them instd of Us so?? _

_2:24am  
Princess: But I don’t want 2 tke anthr break : ( _

_2:25am  
Princess: I like u. _

_2:25am  
Princess: AND I CN FEEL U OVRTHNKING THIS FRM ACRSS THE CITY_

_2:25am  
Sir Pendergast: I like you too. I love you too. _

_2:27am  
Sir Pendergast: Okay fair enough. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you're probably wondering about the double update. 
> 
> The truth is, I don't really have anything left for this. Usually I write a lot of stuff out ahead of time. This one... this one is a lot faster and looser than otherwise. I have a lot of ideas but haven't really written that stuff down. So I'll try to come back to this in the future, but at the same time it's kind of up in the air. 
> 
> Anyway, I love y'all, and thanks for reading. :)


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